Storm of the Century
by Skyclaw
Summary: We are the tributes. We can't lose. We can't win either. They tell us to give up. We don't plan on dying, but we don't plan on winning either. Together, we plan to make a storm and crush an empire.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! I know there are a lot of these things in the Hunger Games archives, but here's another SYOT!

I completed my first one and I can't think of any ideas to write about.

And to flamers, I completely understand your hatred to SYOTs. But for every chapter after this one, I will post a non-SYOT-related Hunger Games oneshot, as a compensation of sorts. (Maybe not every time, but every other chapter, I will! I've got a whole lot of unpublished oneshots in my laptop.)

I just needed an easy way to practice writing. I haven't published anything big in months! So… don't kill me?

I promise I have a plot twist. It's going to be awesome. *malicious smile*

I also will only except SEVEN characters, because 24 would be too much for me to handle and I can't give every character the amount of depth I want.

OH! Sorry, no sponsorship thingies. It's too complicated.

If you've read through the entire AN, which is severely important, put this in your review: The Son of Neptune is freaking awesome.

Just so I know you've read it through.

If you don't , prepare to face the consequences. Wait – don't put any mary-sues or I shall get Enobaria to hunt you down with her shiny golden throat-ripping teeth. :D

- FORM-

Name:

Age:

Gender: (PICK A GUY! Guys are fun to write about, mainly because they can say perverted jokes. Just kidding! But they are fun…)

District:

Personality: (This cannot be just adjectives.)

Family:

Friends:

Enemies: (None is a valid answer, but it should only be because he/she doesn't go around making enemies.)

History:

Rank in society:

Likes:

Dislikes:

DearsL

Day-to-day activities: (Do they go to school? Work?)

Volunteered/reaped?:

If volunteered, why?:

If reaped, reaction?:

Reaction of family and friends:

Strengths: (doesn't have to be just physical attributes. It can be mental stability, resourcefulness, etc. Maximum 5.)

Weakness: (minimum 3)

Talents not related to Hunger Games: (just something extra. Optional.)

Weapon(s) of choice: (Be realistic!)

Strategy:

Alliance or loner?:

Romance: (OKAY! I'm probably going to only allow a single couple, maybe two if I'm in a good mood. The couple must be in the seven. I'm probably going to spend more time with non-couples, just because they are more interesting.)

Opinion of Games:

Opinion of games:

Opinion of Capitol:

Interview angle:

Token:

Appearance: (You know the drill. Don't create a supermodel!)

Clothes: (if she's poor, don't give her rich clothes:

Other:


	2. Introducing the Tributes

**Author's Note:**

**Yay! A chapter! A filler chapter, but an update nonetheless!**

**While you're here... h t t p : / / w w w . f a n f i c t i o n . n e t / m y f o r u m s / A r g e n t u m _ A l a e _ L o v e s _ W e a s l e y s / 2 6 0 8 7 6 8 / **

**(delete the spaces.)**

**It's a forum my friend made. I'm a mod! :D**

**Yes, I'm shamelessly advertising. ON WITH THE SHOW!**

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><p>The tall man swept down the sterilized white hallway with brisk, agitated steps.<p>

The hallway was empty and the only thing that stood out in the sea of white was the vibrantly colored man. He wore a bright orange suit and a matching cape, which flowed almost horizontally because of the speed of his pace. His tall green hair looked like it had been electrified and his skin was entirely dyed with an unnatural dark brown shade.

His eyes were given the most care. Black Egyptian-style eyeliner made intricate patterns that brought out his fake red irises. His eyebrows were scrunched up in anxiety and his forehead matted with sweat, which ruined the effect of the highly illustrated man.

This was Head Gamemaker Freelarge.

And he'll be dead if he didn't pull his latest trick off.

Freelarge finally reached the white door. His carefully manicured fingernails pushed the door open. Freelarge tried to control his shaking hands, but when you're in the presence of the tyrannical president of Panem, no one could just stay still.

Freelarge admitted, inside of him, that that was a bit hypocritical of him, since he plans exciting deaths for children for a living, but compared to Snow, he was an absolute angel.

Snow was standing in the middle of an empty room with columns protruding to a high white ceiling. Several children stood in a straight line, unmoving and staring dead ahead. Snow was standing in front of them, like a conductor, but he was gazing at them with predatory eyes, sucking up every last detail of the children.

Freelarge cleared his throat. "President Snow? The final reapings are done and the tributes have boarded the trains."

Snow turned around, revealing a pale face and blood-red lips. He did not smile.

"I know." He gestured at the children in front of him. "How do you like my new holograms? Very lifelike, isn't it? I got the Effects Department to install one in my office. These are the newest tribute projections."

Freelarge had just noticed a glowing blue number floating above the tributes. Over the first two tributes was one and the last two tributes had a glowing twelve.

Snow continued, "Let me show you my favorites. Aside from the Careers, of course"

The president did a hand gesture, like waving. All the holograms dimmed except one girl's.

She stood at the left corner with a twelve glowing above her head. She had a slight tan and fiery red hair. Her green eyes reflected confusion and dread. The holograms must be very detailed if Freelarge could detect feelings from just the eyes.

She wore a cashmere sweater on a plain lavender dress. Her attire was simple and basic, but next to her ashy skinny district partner, she might as well be from the Capitol, except that she looked uncomfortable, her hands frozen in the action of fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.

"Elzella De Winter," Snow clarified. "She's the mayor's daughter. She volunteered. The reaping balls weren't even rigged. This is good her father is in debt and because we've seen her hunting."

Freelarge eyes widened as a screen flickered on behind the holograms. On it, Elzella held a bow and arrow and was very still. Shadows shaded her face as if she was standing under a bush. The camera panned and it showed a squirrel among the roots of a tree.

That is one adorable creature.

Suddenly, an arrow was released and embedded into the squirrel's body. Elzella gave a holler of delight and went to take care of the once-cute-but-now-bloody-and-repulsive squirrel. Another girl appeared and started stabbing the air violently with a hunting knife.

"DIEEEE!"

"Be quiet," Elzella tutted. "You'll scare the game off."

Another girl slinked next to the other girl. They looked exactly the same, with dark Seam hair and even the same coal-dusted rags. They were obviously twins. Girl Two stuck out her tongue. "Yeah, if you didn't scare them off first with your shout."

"Yeah," Girl One added.

"Yeah," Girl Two affirmed.

Two boys completed the small group. "Nice catch," one of them said. "But we could hear Mika and Shanna talking from a mile away.

"Hey!" Girl One reprimanded. "Ella shouted first, Will. 'Snot our fault."

"Yeah. 'Snot." Girl Two paused and then snickered.

"Oh, do shut up Mika," Girl One said.

"Oh, spare me, Shanna," Mika said. "You sound like a Capitol citizen."

Shanna and Mika began bickering, probably scaring off more animals.

The shorter boy reached out to poke the squirrel in Ella's hand. "Hey, before you go around celebrating, we should know what we're celebrating. This squirrel's skinnier than the homeless guy in front of my house. And THAT'S saying something."

"Mitchell. Honestly, you're such a party-killer."

The happy forest scene faded into a much sadder one. It was a video of Ella's goodbye in the Justice Building. It was a huge goodbye, with all four friends in the forest and her parents. Her father's top hat had drooped over his tear-stained face.

There was also another girl. She wasn't recognizable but her eyes were glazed and somehow Freelarge knew it was not because of tears. She held a walking stick but she looked healthy. That could only mean one thing.

She was blind. She wouldn't even last a second in the Games – no, the chariot rides.

"Why," the girl said, her voice shaky. "Did you volunteer for me? I could handle it. I might not win, but I could handle death." Her voice broke.

Ella just shrugged. "We both know why. You should live out the rest of your life in happiness." She looked at her parents. "Mom, Dad. I wanted to do something in my life. I may be rich, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't do anything." She looked at the rest of her friends. She smiled bleakly. "Besides, I'll come home."

But she didn't sound confident saying that. Ella hugged each one of the people in the room twice. The video faded and the holograms were all equally bright.

Then they dimmed and left a petite girl second in the line, wearing a white gown and black flats. District One. She had long blonde hair and green eyes.

"Dissea Onyx, another Career. Rebellious. Impulsive. Naïve. Easily angered. Just what we need to fuel the Games."

The screen changed to a montage of Peacekeepers escorting the girl from the Justice building and the train ride. She was seen grabbing a butter knife and throwing it out of the window with deadly accuracy. Her face was flushed with anger. Her mentor probably did something to tick her off. She was going to be interesting to watch.

The brightness of the hologram was then transferred to a boy under the number 3. Tall, and skinny, the boy looks like the common stereotype of District 3 tributes. His pale skin makes him look like he's never seen the sun before. He had short curly hair and greenish-brownish eyes, which was a nice contrast. His worn-out but baggy clothes made him look like he's trying to hide in them. He certainly looks shy.

"This is Seck Reedom."

Freelarge could understand why Snow would've added the first two girls to his 'favorite list' but this boy looks like he's in for a bloodbath.

Snow saw the bemused expression on Freelarge's eyes. He smirked, as if he knew a secret. "Don't count Reedom out for the count yet, Freelarge. Surprises happen in the Games."

The screen showed a series of interesting shots. There was Seck on a tree writing on a notebook one second and the next at a programming factory. Freelarge still didn't get what was so special about Seck.

Another female Career's hologram shone. What is it with this year's male Careers? It was from District four, and like all the female careers, she was tall and skinny, which didn't really set her apart from anyone. She had a ski jump nose and wore black hobo gloves and torn clothes.

"Sofia Lusiez. District 4 didn't have a volunteer that year, for some reason but we were lucky enough to snag ourselves a little lying thief. She might make a good back-stabber."

Her screen showed a small heart-breaking goodbye between Sofia and a little girl, possibly a sister. She was the only visit before Sofia go called onto the train. The parents were missing, Freelarge noticed.

This time, the next tribute that shone was one in the middle of the line, a district five boy. He looked ordinary with his brown hair and blue eyes.

"Ashton Lennox. He also has a mayor for a parent. Cocky and confident. Lennox and Onyx won't make a pretty fight."

The next character that glowed was again from the middle of the line. District 7. He wore a beanie and sandals with a leather jacket, giving him a laid-back look to him. He was handsome, but not overly so, and it held just the right amount of energy and mischief to it.

"Cavan- Cava- Cafanaguh…. Er, Noble. Also gets angry a lot, but my sources tell me that he is a great joker. We just have to see if he lasts the Games."

Snow clapped his hands, a booming sound, and the screens and holograms flickered off, leaving them in the white room.

"That was the last one. What do you think?"

Freelarge bit his lower lip. "Great, of course sir. But I am worried about Reedom. He doesn't look… favorable."

Snow smiled sinisterly. "That's what you think. Trust me, Freelarge. I know what I am doing."

Freelarge let the matter pass. "Do we have deaths planned for them all?"

Snow cracked another smile. "Of course.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**So, these are the tributes.**

**Sorry if yours didn't get picked. If it didn't, it...**

**a) Didn't fit with the plot I've made.**

**b) Was too much of a trouble to fit in.**

**c) The spaces were already filled with good characters.**

**So sorry, maybe next time. :/**

**I feel so evil.**

**Be sure to check out the forum.**

**THIS CHAPTER'S ONE-SHOT: Occupational Hazards**

**Characters: Peeta M. and Gale H.**

**Summary: A normal day takes a turn for the worse when Gale visits the Mellark bakery with some interesting questions.**


	3. Train Ride

**Author's Note:**

**Train ride! Sorry I didn't do everyone's Reapings. I didn't do everyone's train ride either. But everyone's going to get a bit of time in the spotlight. More time to get into the action, eh?**

**And again, does anyone roleplay? If so, could you check out my friend and my forum. It's in the last chapter. :D We need new friends. Pwease?**

**No? Ok. *Cries in a corner***

**On with the show!**

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><p>DISSEA ONYX had her head sticking out of the train window.<p>

Her blonde hair was whipping out behind her. She knew once she got out of the wind, her hair would be a rat's nest, but she didn't care. The Capitol train was going a million-miles-per-minute and it would take a fool not to take advantage of the window.

The wind made her squint but she could still see the unspoiled wilderness. The sun warmed her face and the general area was sunny and relaxing.

Suddenly, Dissea's petite form was wrenched back into the train. She was sprawled on the soft velvet floor, undignified. She stood up and glowered at her attacker.

"Whaddya want? Can't you see I was having fun?" Dissea growled.

The fiery-colored escort looked indignant. Like every other Capitol woman, she was dressed in an extravagant costume. Her whole dress was stiff because it was entirely made of glass which resembled a kaleidoscope. It must weigh a ton. Her hair was so high, it reached the ceiling and her heavily-applied mascara looked threatening as she scolded Dissea.

"Sticking your head out of the window?" she squeaked in her ridiculous accent. "That is probably the most absurd thing I've ever seen anyone do, and I've escorted a lot of tributes." She touched Dissea's messed-up hair. "Humph. Districts. Will they ever learn to be civilized and proper?"

Dissea batted the escort's chubby hands away. "I am civilized, _Petunia_." She dragged the escort's name out mockingly.

Petunia rolled her eyes. "I don't call almost getting yourself killed before the Games start civilized, _Dissea_," she said with the same note of spite in her voice. Her pearl necklace clinked annoyingly in harmony with Petunia's clipped accent.

Dissea laughed and flopped onto a very soft blue sofa. "I wouldn't risk my life for anything before the Games, mind you. I _am_ a Career. Plus I have a friend and a brother to get back to, which is more than I can say for you," she said, thinking of Arianna and Dale.

Petunia put her hands on her hips. "Well, I'd push you out the window the moment I saw you hanging your silly little head out, but the President wouldn't like that." She said this in a straight face. She strutted out of the room.

In spite of herself, Dissea shivered. She was supposed to be tough, but she couldn't help but look back when someone kills in cold blood. It wasn't natural. It was kind of ironic, her being a volunteered Career, but that's the reason in her simulations she never dragged out a kill. Losing a life was bad enough, you didn't need to torture your victim.

And only people from the Capitol like death. Like Petunia. Dissea didn't want to be like them.

Dissea was jolted out of her thoughts when she heard the Capitol anthem being played. She walked over to the main room, where her fellow tribute (Harvey? Harley?) was hunched over a bowl of food (Popcorn? Nuggets?). The TV was on and the reapings were shown in high-definition glory.

"Hey, Harvey. Mind if I sit down?"

He grunted a yes. "It's Harkey," he corrected.

He was a true Career. Buffed arms and a huge size, he'd definitely be a winner in the interviews. The only problem was that he was too stoic and unapproachable. Like all male Careers. All they want is blood.

Dissea plopped down and grabbed a handful of food from Harkey's bowl. "Thanks, Sparky."

"Harkey."

"Whatever."

In silence they watched the reapings of the tributes. This year, there are a lot of strong-looking tributes, but none looked able to hurt a fly.

Once it was over, Dissea looked at Harkey. "So what do you think, Sparkly?"

Harkey raised a menacing eyebrow. "Harkey. And I think it's going to be a piece of caramel-flavored cake."

Dissea nodded. "Did you see those seven tributes? Dead before they even got on stage," she said, recalling how the girl almost fainted and the boy screaming.

Harkey nodded solemnly and reassumed his rock-like stature.

Dissea sighed. She had been expecting one of the funnier and charming Careers, not this sack of bricks. But hopefully, he won't be a problem for long.

She just hopes that it wouldn't be her taking care of it.

VAN NOBLE was trying to flirt with his fellow District tribute.

Yes, he knows that the girl looks unhealthily skinny and looks barely thirteen, but his blood was still pumping with adrenaline from the Reapings.

The seventeen-year-old had volunteered. Then, it had seemed like a great idea. The plan was to get famous on live TV, then get back home and be even more popular and rich, where he'll pick up even more girls back home in District 7.

Now, after watching the Reaping tapes, he felt sick. How was he going to get past those Career gorillas? And the other District tributes look desperate and hungry enough to kill you with their fingernails. After every District's Reaping, he felt like his chances were getting slimmer and slimmer and slimmer.

So now, he was messing around with a thirteen-year-old, who he barely knows. It was kind of his way of letting off steam.

"Hey, sweetiepie," he drawled.

"Leave me alone," she growled, scooting to the other side of the couch. They were trying to watch a Capitol TV show. It was a concert, the band named The Rocketing Aardvarks.

"Fiesty, huh?" He jumped and plopped down, sitting closer to the girl. He lay an arm across her shoulders. "Just the way I like them." He flashed a half-hearted smile.

"Ugh, go away."

"I'm staying right here."

The girl promptly stood up. "You smell like alcohol," she said evenly, though by her body language, Van could tell she was scared.

It was true, he had snuck into his escort's room and swiped a bottle of booze. "Aw, come on, sweetiepie. Let's not be enemies." He had just realized his voice was slightly slurred.

The girl walked away, tossing the last few words behind her shoulder. "Aren't you too young to get drunk?" She slammed the door before he could even reply.

Van sighed. Another girl lost. That didn't matter. He turned his attention back to The Rocketing Aardvarks. He absentmindedly adjusted his beanie. His escort had wanted him to get rid of 'the atrocious fuzzball sitting upon his head' but he argued with him until he had given, up exasperated. His mentor, Lyle Twain had supported him, saying that it could be his trademark. After the escort left, he had confided in Van that he always takes the chance to embarrass the escort. They had become fast friends in the train ride.

Coincidentally, Lyle entered the room with a soft knock. Lyle was a dark-skinned thirty-year-old who had his own little world and zoned out a lot. He could be having a conversation with you one moment and would be looking at a very far point in the horizon.

"I saw Cynthia looking like she saw a ghost running through the halls. I immediately identified you as the culprit. What did you do?"

Van shrugged. "She's scared of drunkards."

Lyle took his place on the sofa. "You too? You know, it isn't good for your health." He spotted a bottle of champagne peeking out of a sofa cushion. He grabbed it, opened the bottle and downed a quarter of it.

Van chuckled. "Look who's talking."

"Hey, I left the arena alive. I can do whatever I want, Cafanaguahaha."

"It's Cavanaugh." Lyle has been teasing Van's name since the Reapings, since the escort messed his name up. It was mortally embarrassing.

"Suurrre. But seriously, you needa stop drinking. And I'm your mentor. You do as I say, you won't get killed. Capeish? Stop drinking."

Van slumped. "Do I have too?"

"No girls either. They'll distract you too much and you won't even realize an arrow's heading your way before it sinks itself into your brain."

Van laughed uneasily. The bad thing about having mentors is that they have a sort of sick humor. It's a testimony to the gory deaths they've seen with their own eyes. Lyle might be a real nice guy, but his haunted eyes makes him seems centuries older than he probably is. "Sure thing, captain."

SOFIA LUIEZ was staring at double-mocha triple-layered quardruple-tiered chocolate-caramel hazelnut-sprinkled hot-fudge almond-encrusted German chocolate cake.

Her escort grabbed a silver knife with intricate patterns carved into the hilt. She began to divide the towering cake.

The mentor beside Sofia smiled a gap-toothed smile. He was old, but he had a twinkle in his eye and a mad sense of humor. His name was Tweedle. He never had a last name.

"This is the best part, Sofie." His ran a tongue across his non-existent lips, like a cartoon character.

The other mentors looked tense as well. They all sat on a long table, and because it was District Four, there were more than ten alive mentors, when the other Districts get one mentor, if they're lucky.

When a big hunk of chocolate cake was handed to her, she immediately inhaled the rich desert. Bite after bite, the piece of cake seems never-ending, and she stopped to take a breath half-way through when she was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

"Wow, slow down, tiger," Tweedle laughed. "This is still the appetizer."

At this, Sofia gasped and choked on cake. She began hacking and coughing. Her fellow tribute was glancing at her worriedly.

"What?" Sofia croaked out.

Tweedle smiled his toothless smile. He kept patting her back even after she wasn't suffocating. "Yes, these Capitol folks know how to make a feast, alright."

Sofia looked at her chocolate cake, which was still a mountain. She realized that her stomach was already bloated. She couldn't sit through another course, and from what she'd heard, the Capitol liked to have at least five courses. After that was desert and something called a post-desert meal.

"Oh, nuts."

Five courses and a desert later, they had cleared the table and had a mentors-tributes conference. They'd skip the post-desert meal because by now, even the escort was feeling full.

_Understatement of the century_, Sofia thought, who had to use the bathroom to throw up twice.

Sofia also wondered about the Districts that produced the food. From the little information she could grasp from the streets, the District Eleven citizens were treated like trash not worth the food they grew. It was kind of depressing. There was a man who ran from Eleven and was living in the abandoned hut in the corners of the District. All the thieves of the Distict went to his hut once a week to trade in golden items. He was rich because he ran a forge and created cool things like a golden clock and a decorative golden statue. He was nice, but he would always bore his visitors with stories of hardships in District Eleven. Apparently, the children there get belted almost every day and their wages were next to nothing. It was hard to imagine, Sofia coming from a rich District.

"So, weaknesses? Strengths? Did you train for the Games?" asked a burly young man with sandy blonde hair and ginormous biceps. He had a business-like tone, which seemed inappropriate for the occasion. After all, he was discussing ways to lop off children's limbs and decapitate their heads in a voice that could've been a regular conversation regarding the weather.

Sofia's district partner, Mac, answered first. He was a real Career. The hardened, emotionless face and the slouching, menacing posture was evident in Mac. "I'm a Career. I do swords and spears. I know no weakness. Except maybe charisma."

No kidding. He said it in such a monotone and boring voice that Sofia had to try not to doze off.

A mentor next to Mac patted him in the back with a force strong enough to stop an elephant. Mac didn't budge. "Good for you, boy!" he praised enthusiastically.

"My name is Mac."

"Good for you, Mac!"

"Thank you."

The mentors all smiled and nodded approvingly. Then they turned to Sofia.

"The girl? What's your name? What can you do?"

Sofia swallowed, feeling uncomfortable under the burning gazes of people who had killed. "I'mnotacareer," she rushed. She slowed down, swallowing. "I'm not a Career, but I'm a survivalist." The eyes following her burned with a curious fire. "I'm thief. I've been living in the streets with my sister since I was small. My dad died and my mom chased us away. I learn quickly, so I can make my training sessions fruitful. I can learn to use a weapon. Something easily concealable, like a dagger. I'm sneaky and fast. I steal. And I can kill. Anything to hold on to life. I have to come back to Leonie, my little sister. And my friends. The twins." Sofia decided to shut up. The conversation was steering to more emotional matters.

The mentors were silent, thinking. They must have not had a tribute with so little to work on. Sofia's story sounded generic, typical, and her skills almost non-existent.

Suddenly, Tweedle piped in, "Well, at least she'll be more charismatic than Mac here, even if her story is slightly cheesy." He suddenly grin, which was so contagious, even the tougher mentors cracked a smile. "Heh. Mac and Cheese."

The mentors all start laughing. Sofia wanted to melt into the wall.

Only Tweedle. At least he broke the ice. And the mentors seem genuinely helpful after that. Maybe they were actually nice off the cameras.

Sofia mouthed 'thanks' to Tweedle.

Tweedle just smiled.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Even though there isn't a formal sponsorship thing, doesn't mean my subconcious is prone to biases and brownie points. So, if you review (don't care if it's a flame or not) I will probably make your tribute realisticly do something lucky.**

**This Chapter's Oneshot: Not provided**

**Excuse for This Idiocy: Too lazy to upload.**

**Promise for Next Chapter: I shall post a oneshot.**


	4. Style

ASHTON LENNOX was okay.

He's been through crazier things than this. This was no problem. This was great, in fact. A traveling opportunity. He was awesome. He will win. He'd be richer than he already is. He'd been through crazier things. He'd do great. He'd meet his stylist, adoring fans and the general public with a nice smile and a handsome face. He'd get sponsors. Because he was cool, calm and collec-

"Hey, you ain't looking too well," his district partner told him. She showed him a small blue packet. "Breath mint?"

Ash opened his mouth to reply but shut it again, for fear of throwing up. He settled on shaking his head.

Rooba, the district partner, shrugged and popped several into her mouth, chewing furiously. "Ya' know, I can live on these things."

Ash rolled his eyes. He wasn't too sick to do that.

Typical poor folk. They talk a lot and they eat a lot, and when they're busy eating, they still talk. Barbaric.

Don't mistake him for a Capitol rich snobs. He was nothing like those silly fashionistas. But he does appreciate people not spitting out bits of food out while talking oh so loudly.

He had a migraine. And a nauseous stomach. For the first time in Ash's short-lived life, he wasn't feeling confident. How can you feel confident when your head feels like it's going to split open and your stomach full with acid?

Motion sickness. If the journey takes any longer, you can count Ash finished before the Games even start.

The train finally stopped. Ash's head immediately cleared and his stomach settled. He sat up and began to assume his cocky demeanor.

Rooba jumped up and looked out the window, red hair bouncing up and down. "Oh, boy! We're in the Capitol! Oh gosh! It's so pretty! I wonder if they have loads of breath mints there."

Ever since the escort introduced Rooba to breath mints, she's been skipping meals just to eat the several packets of breath mints. No doubt by now, her breath would permanently smell of mint and her teeth destroyed by cavity.

The mentors hadn't even stopped her, the useless idiots. All they did was wallow in their own guilt for killing another innocent kid, not helping their own innocent kids not to die.

But Ash had to kill if he wanted to win, and he was easily going to win. He just hopes that he won't turn out to be like the mentors when he wins.

"Yep," he said rather sarcastic to the younger girl. "The city that's going to prepare 23 kids to send to their deaths is very pretty. Let's live here forever! Until you get shipped home in a box."

He had to admit, it sounds very ruthless and cruel, but the girl has been yelping on his ears since the beginning of time. Seeing her suffer as a payment was nice.

She looked at him with her big green eyes. "What? We're going home after this? Yay!"

Seeing her become this excited deflated his spite. She kind of reminds him of his own brother back home. Nova was only seven and when Ash was about to leave, Nova looked about to cry. But he never did. That was what Ash loved about Nova. Even though he was only seven, he was strong and mature, even though he does make an occasional childish comment. The two brothers were so alike in personality, their mother, the mayor, had often mixed each other's names up. One time, she even called him Nash. She was a busy person and constant periods of scatterbrainedness was to be expected.

"Um, yeah," Ash said to Rooba. He hated himself for collapsing under the hypnotism of childishness like this. "After the Games, we'll come back to District Five."

Suddenly the door opened and a multicolored escort stumbled in. "We're here! After we get to the building, it's time to meet your styyyyylists!" she sang.

Ash paled. The nauseous feeling was back, and back with vengeance.

SECK REEDOM was being drowned.

He tried to yell but water filled his mouth and he choked on the heavily perfumed water. The taste was sour, almost poisonous. His skin felt like they were peeling off and his eyes felt like they've been stung by bees.

The hands pushing him down released and he resurfaced, sucking in greedy gulps of air and spluttering water everywhere. He rubbed his stinging eyes with his palms and opened them. He glared at the three Capitol females.

They look like they've been dyed in a tub of water themselves. One had blonde hair and blue eyes, while her unpractical gown (yes, gown) was also blue.

That one had a raging expression on her face. "You just splashed water all over my clothes"!

Seck looked at them, astonished. "You call that water? More like toxic acid!"

One with a giant red bow tutted him. "It's a skin-clean-fresh-glow-lily-water treatment. You seriously need this. A drop of this thing costs more than what most people earn a year."

"From the Districts?" Seck asked.

"Uh, no," she replied with a patronizing look. "From the Capitol. Duh."

Seck felt his eyes widen. "Oh."

"Get up, the stylist wants to see you," the green-caped one said.

Seck nodded but did nothing.

"Um, that's your cue to get up."

Seck looked at them, puzzled. "Aren't you going to leave?"

"Nope," they said in unison.

Seck raised an eyebrow. "What if I want privacy?"

"Now why would we do that?" the red one said.

"You guys are girls." He winced at the awkwardness of the sentence. Seck crossed his arms, still sitting in the tub. The water was getting colder. "I'm not moving."

The prep team sighed and left. Once they did, he grabbed a robe and put it on. He stomped out. The prep team then proceeded to march him over to the next room, which was dazzlingly white. They left Seck with a sniff and handed him over to the man waiting there.

Seck had hoped to have a great stylist so he could have a great impression on his sponsors. Anything to make him more memorable. Even though he was eighteen, he was very skinny and had unflattering pale skin. He had black curly hair and greenish brownish eyes and nothing stood out. He was a regular bloodbathee from District three.

Hey. That even rhymes. It's like fate now.

Pushing all the negative thoughts away, Seck took a closer look at his stylist. He looked like a lion. He had a regal sort of face. He was tall so his eyes always looked down at you, and his bright red hair was shoulder-length. He was muscled and wore leotards, which showed his muscles even more.

Seck stood still, trying to look dignified with only a robe on. That didn't last long though.

"Take it off," the stylist said in a low voice that almost sounds like a snarl, only it wasn't spiteful.

Seck's jaw dropped. "Again?"

"Yes."

"B-b-but-"

"Do it."

Seck sighed and took off his robe. Was it just him or were everyone in the Capitol perverts?

The stylist paced around Seck, muttering to himself. Seck had his eyes squeezed shut. It was like his worst nightmare, showing up in school with nothing on. Only it was real.

"Open your eyes, boy."

Seck opened them and the stylist stuck two electric blue contacts in his green pupils.

"OUCH!"

"We're going with an electric theme this year."

"Don't they go with the electric theme every year?"

"Details, details." He walked over to a table where a huge green duffel bag was. "My name's Ramby, by the way." He unzipped the bag and took out a black suit with markings that look like electric circuits. It did not look special at all. Seck didn't say anything, but put on the suit. At least he has clothes.

Then, Ramby extracted a short rod from the bag. It looked like it was woven from metal coils. Seck wasn't sure what it was, but Ramby pulled on it like a telescope and it grew until it was about as tall as Seck's shoulder. He handed it to Seck.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"Ever heard of a Tesla coil?" Coming from District Three, Seck knew. He nodded. "Well, we have an electric conductor in the chariot." The stoic man smiled.

Seck's eyes widened. "No. Way."

ELZELLA DE WINTER was trying to bribe a Peacekeeper.

"Hey," she whisper-yelled from her chariot. "Hey Bob."

"It's Rob," the young-looking Peacekeeper said.

Ella squinted at the Peacekeeper's name tag and shrugged. "Sorry. You look more like a Bob. But Rob's a perfectly good name."

"What do you want, tribute?"

Ella and her fellow tribute, a fifteen year old Seam boy, were in the back of a very long line of chariots. Coming from District Twelve, you were always in the back of everything. She could hear the thundering cheers of the Capitol fans outside of the building.

Everyone's costumes looked excellent. From District One, they wore clothes that looks like it had been made of melted gold, which it probably was. District Two looked like they were ready for war. They had (fake) bullets and guns and their cheeks had two stripes that were supposed to make them tough but instead made them seem like racing cars. District Three was brilliant. They wore dark suits and held sticks that actually had lightning leaping out from it. District Four wore a dress that looked like a giant seashell (which actually looked great, considering that they're dressing up as inanimate objects).

District Five wore a hat that was gigantic and looked like the skyline of a factory, and it actually spewed out carbon dioxide. District Six wore neat doctor's clothes. District Seven wore plaid shirts and wielded very very very big (and plastic) axes. They were probably looking for a tough angle. District Eight wore trailing capes that billowed in the wind. District Nine had fur everything. Boots, hats and even a tail. District Ten dressed up as a cow (Ella felt sorry for them). District Eleven was dressed in a clothes made of wheat.

Last but not least, District Twelve.

Ella was wearing an entirely black suit. So was her District partner.

Nothing else. Just black. Not even make-up. Her stylist had said that it was so plain that people will be attracted to them because all the other Districts are not plain. Like being the odd one out.

It was the most idiotic thing Ella has ever heard. Her District partner, Brock looked glum. Like he had already accepted death.

But Ella wasn't giving up. After all, she was bribing the Peacekeeper.

"Yeah, Rob. Smuggle me a gun in the Games and you'll have fifty percent of my winnings."

"That sounds nice and all, but no."

"Rob! Hear me out. No one's gonna think a District Twelve will win. But if you give a District Twelve tribute a gun, the tables are turned." She grinned.

Rob didn't look perturbed. "Disturb me again, Tribute, and you shall taste the bitter taste of my metal bullet."

Ella bristled. "Isn't that illegal? Killing off a Tribute before the Games even start?"

Rob thought. "Technically, no."

Ella pouted. "Oh. Just asking." She turned to face the front. The gate opened and District One rode away into the abyss. This strengthened Ella's resolve. "Oh come on, Rob! At least get me away from the chariot ride!"

"Now that's illegal."

"WHAT? Killing someone isn't illegal, but helping someone avoid mortal embarrassment is? You have messed up morals, man."

District Two rides on.

"Oh !"

"Nononononononono."

"You sick, despicable man."

"Thank you."

District Three.

"Gimmie your gun."

"Why?"

"So I can shoot you.

District Four.

"No."

District Five.

"Dude. It doesn't have to be filled with bullets. I just want it for show. I need to look tough, don't I?"

"Still no."

"Aww."

District Six.

District Seven.

"Do something!"

"No."

"PLEASE!"

District Eight.

"Look, I can offer you a piece of condolence."

District Nine.

District Ten.

"I'm listening."

District Eleven.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

"WHAT? THAT'S IT? YOU-"

District Twelve.

Suddenly the black chariot lurched forward and Ella hung on to the edges. They burst through the gates and were showered with cheers and lights.

Ella was momentarily stunned. She had never seen such bright lights in her life. She almost felt like she was on fire or that she'd died and gone to heaven.

Blinking, she saw that people were whispering to their neighbors. Almost everyone pointed to the cowering District Twelves. Then, she felt blood rushing through her cheeks.

Ah. There it was: Mortal embarrassment.

But, as they rounded a corner, more people began taking pictures. There were more flashes trained on their chariot than even the careers'.

Hey. Attention.

That was good. Ella began waving. She saw from the corner of her eyes that her partner was as well. Maybe he had a little hope.

The crowd roared at their 'boldness' and 'innovation' and Ella knew in the bottom of her heart that she had a little hope as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**You likey? No likey? Oh.**

**So, the next chapter will be about the training scene, which will probably be the same chapter as the interviews, then after that... *grins maliciously* the Games start.**

**Yeah, I know I have a fast pace. Wait till you see the arena.**

**So... in order of making the Hunger Games archive a better place:**

**One-shot of this chapter: The first part of my three-shot, Problems to be Fixed.**

**I'm not as proud of this one as Occupational Hazards, but see it if you wish. (PS, a lot of people has been asking me to make another chapter to OH, though I intended it to be a one-shot only and I've no idea whatsoever to go through with another chapter. So, do you want me to make another chapter?)**

**That is all.**


	5. Cat Eyes

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for the late update! I had a major writer's block and I went to Singapore for a vacation. Anyone from Singapore here? Happy new year! Please enjoy.**

* * *

><p>SOFIA LUSIEZ deciding between two weapons of mass destruction.<p>

Her mentor had told her to train with one weapon, not more, not less. The problem was Sofia had to choose between two very awesome weapons.

Weapon One: A super awesome long-range whip that easily maims other tributes without her having to get very near.

Weapon Two: Epic daggers of doom that she could throw, with pointy edges sharp enough to pierce through skulls if well-aimed.

Decisions, decisions.

She was standing in the middle of the training area. All the other tributes had jumped to the other stations with either excitement or desperation. Sofia was just standing there with a slightly bored look on her face.

Hey, it wasn't her fault she had spent her first night in the Capitol sneaking around the tribute building. She hadn't found anything useful to steal, mainly because everything the tributes had her avoxes could provide her with. She almost took one girl's token, which was a pretty necklace with a stone that changes color in the light. She didn't, because it would suck for the said tribute. Sofia was a thief, but not a menace. She almost got caught by a Peacekeeper once, but with the elevators, she could do anything.

Suddenly, a girl appeared next to her, startling Sofia from her stupor.

"You look lost."

The girl that stepped up suddenly beside her had big green eyes. Sort of like her sister's, Leonie, but slightly duller. She had brownish-reddish hair and tanned skin, which was unusual for District 12 tributes. Sofia had shamefully watched and paid attention to all of the Hunger Games that aired every year, and she knew that District 12 tributes usually have olive skin and black or blonde hair.

The girl was shorter than Sofia but she realized that they had the same bone structure – skinny and lithe. But the thing that Sofia paid the most attention to was the necklace. It had a pretty stone dangling off it and it changed colors in the light.

"Hey, nice necklace," Sofia commented, ignoring the girl's greeting. _Haha, I was about to nick it the other night_, she thought.

"Thanks," the girl said, fingering it. "It's my token." Sofia noted that her voice was friendly, but the effect made her sound younger than she probably was. Naïve. She's not a survivor. "What's yours?" she asked through Sofia's thoughts.

Sofia was glad she had pulled down the hood of her jacket because she blushed. She usually wears hoods. She was a criminal, and she couldn't afford to get peacekeepers to notice her. "It's not with me," she lied easily. The truth was she had it in her left pocket. She was just embarrassed to show it to a stranger, since her token was so much more beautiful than hers. She hated feeling embarrassed for something Leonie had made her, but it was just a crude wooden duck.

"Oh," the girl said. She didn't seem suspicious. "Okay. I'm Ella. What's your name?"

_Ella_. A name as sweet as the owner. Sofia was sure she's bloodbath material. "My name?" she repeated. Giving her name would mean that she trusts Ella. She didn't. Sofia wasn't even sure she wanted an ally outside the Career pack. But then, she thought what the heck and said, "I'm Sofia."

Ella smiled. "Okay, Sofia. Wanna be allies?"

Sofia smirked under her hoodie. Just as she thought. "Thanks, but no thanks. Sorry, another group already snapped me up. I am in high demand." She gestured to the Career pack.

Ella's eyes widened. "Oh really? Why exactly are you so important?"

Sofia almost looked up. Instead she held up the other girl's token. Ella's hands flew up to her neck and furrowed her eyebrows. She snatched it back. "Don't touch it," she growled, ruining the innocent little girl look.

Woah. Someone has a deep emotional attachment to a rock. "Sorry, kid," Sofia said, even though Ella was probably only a year younger than her. "Can you help with something, though?"

"What?"

"Should I pick this awesome dagger of doom, or this epic whip of stinging rage?"

"Um… the epic whip of stinging rage? Just 'cause it sounds cooler?"

"Ok, thanks."

"Anytime."

They went their separate ways.

Sofia glanced at the other competitors while her instructor told her how to whip a whip with accuracy. She hit the targets accurately but missed one when she saw Ella shoot an arrow that found its mark dead center of the target. Even the trainer was impressed.

Oh. She might have some trouble.

Then, a guy next to her shot an arrow and it was so accurate, it knocked Ella's arrow aside.

Maybe more than some.

She busied herself with looking at other tributes. The District 3 boy who made a great impression the day before on the chariot rides was on the survival station learning to tell plants apart and how to start a fire. Then, he accidentally set fire to the plants and got kicked out. He was just wandering around until he picked up a knife.

The careers were faring well, especially Dissea. She had a sparring partner in a headlock and then proceeded to land punch after punch until the trainers pulled her back. Then, she turned on _them_ and started attacking. She was shouting the whole time.

Oh my. What a big pair of lungs you have.

Lastly, before Sofia's trainer had pulled her back into the training session, she saw a handsome but slightly mischievous boy waiting in line to spar with Dissea.

Oh, that won't end well.

ASH LENNOX looked hypnotizing.

He was dressed in a suit that pulsed glowing blue light. He looked like he was made of energy. He felt like it too.

Oh wait, he always felt like he was full of energy. After all, he was a Lennox.

Ash was sitting on a very comfortable chair, in a nice little neat line with all the other tributes, patiently waiting. Like a good boy.

His mind was the opposite. He was analyzing each and every one of the tributes as they talked with Caesar. He was staring at the tributes' every move and quietly mocking them.

Coming from District 5, he had the chance to observe all the Career's lame attempts at an angle that's been overused.

That's right. The usual I-am-so-bloodthirsty-I-eat-uncooked-meat-for-breakfast routine. After sixty-four years, you would've thought they would've thought of more creative angles.

But no. The Capitol citizens were eating it up anyway.

First up was the District One girl. Ash had seen her and Van wrestle and trade punches the day before, though he didn't remember her name.

"Dissea Onyx!" Caesar chirps.

Dissea wore a simple dark blue dress that comes up to her knees, but attached to her collar was a very long cape. It was several feet long and studded with glinting gems.

Ash almost felt sorry for her. Her face looked slightly blue. Maybe it was just makeup, but her face made it look like the heavy fashion statement was choking her.

If it did, she gave no sign of it. Dragging the cape along, she sat down in the chair in front of Caesar and said, "Do what you have to do."

The rest of the interview consisted of Caesar firing questions at her and Dissea looking like she wants to be anywhere but there.

The stupid Capitol people seem to be happy though. But then again, they _are_ the stupid Capitol people.

In the end, she got a standing ovation. She stalked back to her chair with a slight smug bow to the rest of the tributes.

The District One boy made an equally boring interview. But he got the same audience reaction.

Surprisingly, the District 2 tributes didn't make as much of a reaction. The reason was sort of obvious – of all the District 2 tributes in history, they looked like the skinniest and weakest. The girl looked twelve.

District 3's girl tribute looked fidgety and skittish. Seck Reedom, the boy tribute, well… he was another level entirely.

He was biting his nails to stubs while spitting out short answers to questions between bites.

"Hi, Seck Reedom. Mind telling me about yourself?" Caesar asked.

"I'm from District 3."

This earned him some laughter. "Well, mind getting a tad bit specific? Tell us about your family back home."

Seck stopped chewing his fingers thoughtfully. "I live with my dad and my sister. My dad is awesome and Blin… has a very active imagination. But I love her for it. I have a brother too but he's rarely home. If he's watching this, it'll be the first time in a week I've spoken to him. He didn't come to see me off after the Reapings."

Seck wiggled his fingers a bit bitterly at the camera. "Hey Acker."

Then, as if he had remembered the audience surrounding him, he shoved his fingers back in his mouth. The rest of his interview answers were vague. It was obvious he was trying to keep a mysterious angle, but he might've blown it. But it might work on his favor. The audience was hooked, interested.

The District 4 boy was a huge blowout. He had a kind of nervous breakdown in the middle of the interview and had to return to his seat before the end of his time limit. He was probably the weakest career.

Ash chuckled to himself. A weak career? An oxymoron if he's ever heard of one.

The District 4 girl tribute, Sofia Luiez, was dressed in a long, wavy blue dress that faded into white as it went up. Her previously dark brown hair was dyed into a lighter brown and was pinned up in an elegant bun. Surprisingly, her stylists had allowed her to wear her hobo gloves. Maybe they wanted to give the audience something to remember her by. It was smart. Ash wished his stylists had thought of something like that.

Sofia sauntered and appeared to be wobbling on her heels and eventually reached the chair.

"H-h-hey Caesar." She tripped over her words.

"Hey Sofia Luiez! Did I hear you stutter? There's nothing to be scared of!" With that, he leaned forward, looking slightly psychotic in his blue lipstick. "I don't bite!"

Sofia blinked, showing off her green eyes unintentionally. "I bet you don't," she said quickly. "I'm just slightly – um – overwhelmed by you beautiful people of the Capitol!"

Ash choked on a laugh. She was good. All the Capitol citizens within a quarter mile radius of her grinned like she was specifically talking about them.

"Why thank you, Sofia!" Looks like Caesar fell for it too. "Tell us about yourself."

Sofia thought for a while. "Well, I have a little sister. I treasure her over everything. She's an absolute angel."

The audience 'aww'-ed. "That's sweet," Caesar said. "Do you have any friends?"

Sofia hesitated. "Yeah. Alexandra and Maxim. They're twins and they're awesome. We stea– I mean, hang out with each other often."

Caesar laughed. "Well, Sofia, from a credible source, we have gotten word that you've gotten the nickname Cat Eyes. Tell us about that."

Sofia suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Um. Yeah. Nothing much to tell, Caesar. I'm not sure myself. I think it's just because of my eyes."

Caesar winked at her. "Come on. I know there's more to the story than that. Everyone loves a rebel, Sofia."

Sofia suddenly relaxed, but perked up at the same time. "Oh do you? That's great! I'm actually a thief back in District four. I can steal anything. The older boring shop owners never would know what hit 'em. They call me Cat Eyes now."

The audience was laughing now. The Capitol citizens did find everything a hundred times funnier than normal people.

Just then, the buzzer rang. Sofia was clapped off by the audience.

Next was Ash's district. Rooba, his district partner, went first. She was boring. All she did was drone on and on about breath mints, but since she was twelve and looked like seven, the audience fawned over her cuteness.

In a flash, her three minutes were up and it was Ash's turn. This was his forte.

He ran up the stage, smiling and waving at the audience. He took a seat, still smiling a winning smile.

Caesar ginned. "Hey, Ashton! You seem excited."

Ash laughed. "You bet. I feel like I'm ready to take on an army. Oh, and call me Ash."

"Hmm…" Caesar mused, pretending to think. "Okay, Ash. First question. You seem like a confident boy. Did anything inspire this confidence?"

Ash didn't miss a beat. "Well, I think it's generally because I give this aura of awesomeness." The audience laughed. "And I have nothing to fear," he finished, glancing discreetly at the other tributes.

Caesar nodded understandingly. "Is there anyone you'd like to take on in the arena?"

Ash shrugged. "Well, to make things more interesting, I won't reveal who I'm looking forward to fight. Just remember that it can be any of the tributes, even the Careers. I plan to win, remember?"

There are very ominous 'ooh's from the audience. Then, a tribute yelled, "Bull!"

Cameras and everyone's eyes are trained on Dissea, who's clutching her stomach, laughing.

Ash felt a familiar stir in his gut. Strangely enough, it wasn't anger. It was defiance. He had only one close friend at home, Ariane. Everyone else dislikes him. No one really hates him, but a lot of people don't really think highly of him. Just because he's the son of the mayor does not mean he's stuck up.

Okay, maybe he is a little full of himself.

But he absolutely hates it when people step on him. Dissea just stomped on him. With heels.

Ash stood up, commanding the cameras to his angle again. He faced the audience. Caesar looked on, confused. This was not in the script. Even Dissea subsided into small chuckles.

"My fellow tribute, Dissea Onyx, does not think I'm tough enough take her on. I assure you, Capitol, I may not be a Career, but I can take on anyone. If Onyx underestimates all of her opponents, it will be a miracle if she even gets out of the bloodbath."

Ash sat down again, with a quick glance at Dissea. Her eyes were burning. He turned to the audience. They were whispering to their neighbors. He was proud of himself for bringing down Dissea's reputation. She won't get a lot of sponsors.

The buzzer rang and Ash walked back to his seat. Just for kicks, he passed Dissea, winked and mouthed 'burn'.

Dissea flipped him off, laughing.

Ash took his seat. A guy a few seats down gave Ash a thumbs-up. It seems that Dissea had already made another enemy and Ash might have gained an ally. Ash grinned and spaced out, missing District 6 and the girl from District 7. He tuned in again in time to hear the .District 7 boy. It's the boy who gave him a thumbs-up.

He was wearing suspenders and a plaid red shirt, like they always do to the District 7 boys. His entire being was covered with sawdust that made a trail on the stage, as if he had just spent the day chopping off trees. He had a beanie hat on. It looked familiar.

Ash remembered seeing it on the boy wrestling Dissea. He didn't win, but they both came out needing medical assistance.

He might need the assistance of the boy in the arena.

ALLY ALERT!

"So," Caesar sang. "How are you, Cavanaugh Noble?" Caesar paused. "A bit of a mouthful, am I right?"

The audience laughed.

The boy smiled. "I get that a lot. Call me Van."

"Van? So, what's your favorite color?"

Some confused laughs.

Confusion graced Van's handsome features. "Um, seriously?"

"Why?"

"Uh, 'cause you asked the other tributes better questions. Do you hate me? Do you want me to get killed in the arena or something, bro?"

Outright laughter.

Caesar faked confusion. "Why? I'm sure a lot of ladies would like to know your favorite color. And your phone number."

This time, a lot of girls shrieked their approval.

_What the heck is a phone number?_ Ash thought.

Van looked baffled, but _very_ happy. "Of course they would. Well, if you want to know, it's whatever color the girl I'm dating's eyes are. So generally blue." He winked and finger-gunned a blue-eyed Capitol girl who promptly fainted.

"Well, do you have a girl at home, Van?"

"Nah, the last one got boring. But I do have lots of friends. My best friend, that's you, Finnbar," he said, pointing at the camera as if pointing all the way back to District 7. "Is my partner in crime."

"I see. Well, what's with the beanie hat you keep on wearing? I thought the stylists would fume."

"Nah, it's my token. They're not allowed to take tokens. But I would have thought so too. The stylists are too uptight."

The rest of the tribute's interviews were boring, up until the girl tribute of District 12.

Ash remembered that her name was Ella. They had made some small talk back in the training session. They both were good with archery and they both were the mayor's kid. She was a decent girl. Ash didn't really need her as an ally, but if a fight broke up between them, she might hesitate killing him.

"Hello Elzella De Winter! How's life?"

"Good," she murmured, just loud enough for the microphones to pick up. She was fiddling with her black dress. Her entire appearance was doused in black. Her nails were painted black and she wobbled on black heels. Her red hair had black streaks in them and she had black contacts on, strangely covering the nice green eyes. Her token glimmered on her chest. "Call me Ella."

"Okay, Ella. How do you like the Capitol so far?"

Ella looked at the audience, conscious of the eyes staring at her. "Um, it's good! Great, actually! I love what you did to the place," she chirped, pointing to the city's skyline.

Caesar looked flattered, as if he designed the place himself. "We Capitol citizens think highly of the architecture in a city. How about District 12?"

Ella looked slightly infuriated, as if she knows Caesar is embarrassing her district. He probably is. "What about it?"

"What do you love about District 12?"

Ella thought about it. "Well, we might not be the richest district, or the best buildings, but some of the people there have some of the biggest hearts in Panem. That I am sure of."

Caesar smiled. "I have no doubts about that. What would you like to say to your family and friends back in District 12?"

Ella turned to the camera and shouted, "I LOVE YOU!"

The audience rose to their feet and clapped until the buzzer rang. Some even had tears on their face. Ella scampered back to her seat, black dress flowing.

Caesar stood up and calmed the audience with outstretched palms. "Okay, Capitol! That's all we have this year! Give it up one more time for the tributes!"

Deafening applause.

"Okay! Remember to increase the chances of victory for your favorite tribute by sponsoring them. Tomorrow night, we will release the training scores. Until them, good luck, tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

CAVANAUGH NOBLE exited the training room in a daze.

Everything felt surreal. He saw the other tributes waiting for their turn in the waiting room. They looked at his bloodied forehead with wide eyes. He gave them a look that said, _don't mess with me_.

They didn't.

He stormed down the hall and avoxes turned the other direction whenever they spotted him. He climbed into the District 7 floor and was met by his escort. Lyle was behind her.

"VAN! What happened to you?"

Van didn't want to deal with amyone, even Lyle. "Got into a fight. Now, outta my way."

The escort grabbed Van's shoulder. Van shook her hand off.

The escort's hands hovered, not sure what to do. "Van! Are you familiar with the word 'infection'?"

"I don't care."

The escort's eyes rolled. Lyle stepped in. "Van," his tone was firm. "Stop acting like a kid."

"But I AM a kid!" Van shouted. "I'm a kid being forced into the arena! I'm a kid forced to fight to the death! And I want to go home!"

Lyle's hand cracked against Van's cheek so hard, he landed on the floor, clutching his head.

There was silence. The escort looked on with wide eyes.

Lyle's hand was still in the air. He lowered it with a sigh. He turned to the escort. "Sorry to scare you like this, Scandium. Would you be kind enough to leave us?"

Scandium squeaked a response and fled.

Lyle's hand appeared in front of Van. "Come on, boy. Let's get you cleaned up."

Van was too shocked to argue and took Lyle's hand. Van's eyes were trained on the rugged floor the whole journey to the bathroom. Lyle gestured for Van to sit on the edge of bathtub.

Lyle took a huge wad of tissue, wet it and started to wipe away some of the dried blood.

It stung a little, but Van didn't really care. For a moment, there was a long pause.

"What happened, Van?' Lyle tried gently.

Van didn't say anything.

"Look, if you're angry that I slapped you, I'm sorry. I was the same way as you when I was a tribute. Desperate, ready to run, scared."

Van hadn't remembered that Lyle was also a tribute when he was younger. "I ain't scared."

Lyle smiled. "I got you talking, didn't I?" Van didn't smile back. "What happened, Van?"

"I ran into a door."

"Really." Kyle had finished cleaning up the wound and grabbed the first aid kit off the wall.

Van winced as Kyle sprayed antiseptic n his forehead. "I got into a fight with a gamemaker."

Kyle paused for a while but strangely didn't say anything. "Why?"

"He pissed me off."

"Elaborate on that."

"They didn't pay attention when I threw my axe and hit a bullseye for the first time. So I snuck an punched the first guy on the nose. He got a good hit in, though." Van suddenly buried his face in his hands. "They're gonna give me a bad score. I'm gonna die in the arena. You're right. I shouldn't have acted like a kid."

"Hey, hey, you're not going to die. I'll tell you why. You have a great mentor – myself. Half the girls in the Capitol have already fallen underneath your charm. Sure, maybe the gamemakers will give you a one." Van gave him a death glare. "But, it won't end your chances. Now stay still, or I'm gonna have to put a cartoon band-aid on your forehead."

"Sure thing. And Lyle?"

"Yes, kid?"

"Thanks."

"For? There are a lot of things you should be thankful of to me."

"You know… never mind, you ruined the moment."

"That's what I do best."

They left the bathroom and plopped themselves in front of the TV. The escort, Scandium, was already there. She handed them bowls of something crunchy.

Van inspected one of them. "What is this?"

"Popcorn."

"What kind of sick abomination is this popcorn you speak of?"

Scandium rolled her eyes. "It's corn stuck on a microwave with butter poured on it. Try it."

Van crunched on one, saltiness spreading on his tongue. "Ohmigosh what have I been missing all these years?"

Lyle laughed. "You sound like a Capitol girl."

Scandium eyed Lyle. Lyle backtracked.

"A _young_ Capitol girl."

Before Scandium could get a chance to throttle Lyle, Cynthia, Van's district partner, came in.

"Hey," she greeted everyone before sitting down next to Scandium.

Just then, the TV flickered on for the training scores.

Van didn't pay attention, but the scores were typical of every year, and end Lyle made a chart on the most formidable enemies.

But Van did pay attention to his score.

He got a 1.

Cynthia had laughed.

Van peeked at Lyle's list to hide his embarrassment.

Dissea Onyx, the girl he wrestled with, got a ten, obviously.

The other careers got high scores as well.

Sofia Luiez from District 4, Van remembered her as Cat Eyes in the interviews, got an eight. Not bad, but slightly low for a career.

Seck Reedom from District 3, the crazy guy who set fire to the plants, got a five. It's hard to imagine what got him such an average score. He looked like he could lift a knife.

Lastly from District 12, Ella got a nice eight.

Scandium jumped up. "Alright, Van and Cynthia! Tomorrow, you'll go in to the arena! I expect everyone to be ready in the morning. Now, off to bed."

A sudden wave of nausea washed on Van. Tomorrow, 24 kids were going to be shipped to the arena. He had to be ready.

He might die tomorrow. He might kill someone. He didn't know which was worse.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I apologize if it seems as if I'm antagonizing some of your tributes. I'm not, I'm just giving them personalities. :P This isn't one of my better chapters, but I promise it will get better in the ARENA! Yay.**

**Please review.**


	6. Quiver

**Author's Note:**

**(Please excuse this hideously unneccesary author's note)**

**ARRRRRRENAAAAA, BABY!**

* * *

><p>ELZELLA DE WINTER looked like a human target.<p>

She was wearing a bright red jacket over a white shirt that will obviously glow like a star in the night with neon green pants.

Seriously? Neon. Green. Pants. It's almost a crime.

This was the costume she was going to be wearing to the arena. With the outfit, she'll be spotted a mile away.

She turned around, studying her reflection in the dim underground room. This was _almost_ worse than the times her parents had tried to dress her up in dresses and skirts.

Standing behind her was her stylist and her mentor, with two very different expressions.

"Marakov, are you sure about this?" Ella's mentor asked. "She looks kind of… bright. Maybe something a bit more… camouflage?"

Marakov tutted the woman with sweeping hand gestures. "No, I think she looks magnificent! Even if she doesn't, changing her outfit is not within my power. It has been pre-decided by the Head Gamemaker. All the other tributes are wearing the same clothes." Ella felt a bit relieved. At least when she suffers in front of the whole of Panem, she suffers with 23 other people. "I think it is excellent. Even if she dies, she dies with style!"

Ella's mentor looked angry. "She will not die. Don't discourage her."

While Marakov and her mentor argued, Ella's shoulders slumped. Today she was going to have to fight for her life. Above her head we metal rafters supporting the ceiling above them. It was dark and a lot of official-looking people were running around doing last-minute preparations. The smell of make-up and powder made Ella feel sick. What made her even sicker is that the arena is right above her.

"I'm gonna puke," she mumbled to the ceiling.

Marakov looked alarmed. "Ew, get away from me."

Ella's mentor gave him a slap that rang through the cavern. She then put her hand on Ella's shoulder. "Come on Ella. Take a few breaths. Relax. What is your strategy?"

Ella followed her mentor's directions but it encouraged acid to climb up her throat. She swallowed. "Grab a bow and arrow. Maybe a survival kit. Run away. Meet up with ally east of the cornucopia." Ella had found another strong girl from District five. "Make shelter. " Ella realized that her hands were shaking. She shoved them into her pockets. "Marina, I don't think I can do it," she confessed to her mentor.

"Shove it, girl," Marina told Ella affectionately. "That's what I thought the day before they threw me in the arena. Saw my District partner take an arrow to the heart. Flipped out and decided to win. Look where that got me."

Ella didn't think she could be as tough as Marina. Sure, she could fight, but she couldn't kill anyone. She was too trusting, naïve. She had been told that a lot of times by various people in her life. Before, she had thought trust was a good quality. But here in the arena, it could get you killed.

"Are you sure my ally is trustable?" she said.

"Who? Cally? Yep. Even if she isn't, she doesn't look too smart, which means you can take her one on one. Relax kid. Ol' Marina has got everything taken care of. Just get that bow and arrow." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Which reminds me. 15 minutes till launch." Marina grabbed her wrist and escorted her to a platform. She glanced at Ella's face. "What's the matter kid?"

"Absolutely nothing," Ella replied, tongue dripping in sarcasm.

15 minutes of agonized waiting and twiddling thumbs later, the platform began to rise.

"Marina?" Ella squeaked.

"Don't panic. Get those bow and arrows." Marina's aged face began to disappear beneath Ella's platform. "Don't lose yourself in the arena. Keep your wits about you. I know you don't want to kill people." Her face had completely disappeared, only an echo-y voice remained. "But you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs." Then her voice disappeared.

Ella felt like the loneliest girl in the world.

Marina had told her to kill. Her last command.

For a while, Ella was trapped in darkness and then, the ceiling opened, spilling the platform with light. In a few seconds, she was standing ground-level, with 23 other kids poised to run in a circle around the cornucopia. Just as Marakov had said, everyone was wearing the clown suit, which made Ella want to laugh for some reason.

The cornucopia was magnificent, glinting under the morning sun. What was more important was the pile of supplies in its mouth. In the base of the biggest pile sat a golden bow, the quiver slightly closer to her.

But there was only one bow. From the training center, she saw another archer. Ashton, his name was.

Ella glanced along the circle and saw Ash, a couple people away from her. By the way his eyes were glinting, he had spotted the bow as well. Ella had to run fast.

Ella's mind went racing. She glanced at the sky, noting which direction the east was, as Marina taught her. Thankfully, a thick forest was there, perfect for hiding.

Ella spotted Cally, almost across from her. She caught her eye and Cally nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

"Welcome to the one-hundred-thirty-fourth Hunger Games!" Claudius Templemith's boomed from invisible speakers. "The count down has started!"

He began counting from sixty, but the numbers were insignificant. Everyone was only listening for the gong in the end. Ella was conscious of the bombs around her platform. She tried not to think that if she stumbled on one of them, she could blow up to bloody smithereens.

Looking around the arena, she saw that opposite the dense forest was a few miles of a ghost town. The buildings were old, grey and looming, similar to the neighborhoods in District Twelve. It was the perfect place to hide, albeit being kinda creepy. It also looked like people left in a hurry. There were things scattered around the streets like cans, dolls and old newspapers. There might be interesting things that tributes could use there. It was an interesting arena. Half the regular forest and the other half an urban maze.

"Ten… nine… eight…" Ella whipped her head back to the cornucopia.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You can't make an omelet without breaking any eggs.

"Three… two… one."

A loud gong reverberated through the entire arena. Ella flew from her platform, jacket and hair flowing out behind her. She pushed everyone who got too close to her to the ground.

She dove as soon as she was close enough and captured her first prize, the quiver with the arrows, landing on some medical supplies. She let out a short gasp of victory when she heard a bloodcurdling scream, which was cut off short.

A chill ran through her spine. She pushed herself off the ground and saw the first victim of the games. She absorbed an image that she wouldn't ever forget the rest of her life.

A few feet away, a girl lay in a pool of blood, her face smashed in. Dissea Onyx stood over her, holding a club with both hands. Ella couldn't identify the face of the dead girl, but the long golden hair tied into pigtails gave the victim a name.

It was Cally, her ally.

Ella didn't have time to scream. The earth seemed to sway beneath her. Suddenly, a boy leapt up and landed next to her, seizing the golden bow.

Ella was snapped back to reality. She turned into a banshee. Screeching her lungs out. She slung thet quiver on one shoulder carelessly and jumped on the boy, wrestling him to the ground.

"THAT'S MINE!" she screamed.

Ella took a close look to the boy's face. It was Ash, the other archer. He was stronger than her and after a moment of them rolling on the ground, he had straddled her, lifting the golden bow over her head, swinging it down on her forehead.

Ella deflected the bow with the quiver. The vibration from the impact threatened to pull Ella's shoulders out of her socket. Ash lifted the bow for another hit. The quiver was already dented.

"WAIT!" she said desperately. "I have the arrows, you have the bow, can we – you know – compromise?"

Ash swore loudly at her and swung the bow again. "I'll take that as a no," Ella mumbled. Then her eyes widened. Dissea was stalking towards them. "DISSEA ONYX!"

Ash looked thoroughly spooked and jumped off Ella, rocketing to the forest, leaving Ella to Dissea's mercy. "Great help you've been!" Ella yelled at Ash's retreating body.

Ella rolled to her feet. Dissea was only a couple feet from her and she had already raised her spiked club like a baseball bat. Those things must weigh a ton, yet Dissea swung it like there was no gravity.

Dissea now was right in front of Ella. Ella raised her arms uselessly to protect her face. This is it.

Ella felt like everything was going in slow motion. Everything felt surreal. She could hear a tribute scream in agony all the way across the clearing, another falling and a sword cutting through air. She even caught the scent of Dissea's perfume, a flowery smell which threatened to suffocate her.

Suddenly, Dissea was jerked backwards. Her beautifully cold green eyes suddenly replaced with golden-brown eyes.

Ella blinked with confusion. Dissea's club was on the ground and the owner was stuck in a headlock. Her rescuer was a boy with a beanie hat. Her ears were not working at the moment. The boy was yelling at her. His lips read 'run'.

Then, Dissea overpowered the boy and had him on the ground.

Ella wanted to run, but she couldn't leave her rescuer like that. Ella ran around the flailing pair and grabbed Dissea's ankles pulling them violently away from the boy.

The boy immediately ran away. Ella followed him, picking up a big green camo bag on the way. It's not when they were at least a half mile away from the cornucopia that the boy stopped running. He found a hole with bushes growing thickly around it. He sat down leaning on the wall, panting.

Ella sat across from the boy. During the journey, she had stared at the dark beanie cap searching for a name.

For a moment, they just sat there gasping for air as quietly as you could.

"Wh... what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

Ella sucked in a lungful of air. "Don't mean to sound… stalker-ish… but I followed… you." She took a deep breath of air. "I remember… your name. It's Van, isn't it?"

He looked surprised. "Yeah. I didn't… know if you'd… remember. You're Ella, right?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

For a few minutes, they waited until their hearts stopped hammering in their chests. Ella saw that Van had a sling in one hand.

Ella tried to start another conversation. "That was close, huh?"

"Yeah," Van said. He tried for a grin. "That Dissea is cruel." He turned serious again. "Listen, Ella. When I saved you, I didn't automatically enlist you as an ally."

Ella gathered her legs close to her chest and rested her chin on it. "Yeah, I know. Do you already have an ally?"

Van looked sheepish. "Nope. I was too concentrated on… other matters. Why? Do you have one?"

Ella winced. Suddenly, images of Cally's fallen body erupted in her mind. "I did. Until Dissea smashed her face in."

Van frowned. "Thanks for the picture. Well, I don't want to discourage you or anything, but I usually get to know someone before I make an alliance with them. You know, to see if you won't leave me the next morning. With a knife on my back."

"I'm trustable," Ella put in earnestly.

"And to see if they won't be a burden and have skills that won't land us in a back home. In matchboxes."

"I have skills," Ella said indignantly. "And a backpack."

Van raised an eyebrow. "Did you get any weapons."

"Yeah, a quiver." She grabbed it from her shoulder and showed it to him.

Van took it, examining the two large dents. "What happened? It looks like it's been through a stampede."

"Ash tried to kill me."

Van made a sad face. "Ash? I liked that guy." He examined the point of one arrow. "Do you have the bow?"

Ella picked invisible lint from her clothes, unable to meet Van's eyes.

"Heh. It's quite funny actually. See, I got the arrows, but Ash ran away with the bow.

Van closed his eyes in exaperation. "Really?" He handed back her quiver. "Do you have anything in that backpack. You know, something _useful_ for once?"

Ella pouted. "Hurtful!" She pulled out her backpack and started rummaging through the stuff. "I've got four throwing knives, some nuts – not sure if poisoned or not – some plastic bags and," she lifted something circular to the sky. "Duct tape! Score!"

Van tilted his head, slightly impressed. "Lemme see the knives."

Ella looked at him suspiciously. "Promise not to kill me?"

Van laughed. "If I wanted you dead, your canon would've already been blown."

"Nice thought." She handed one throwing knife to Van, who accepted it, laughing.

"Man, you really are gullible. You wouldn't stand a day in the arena. You just gave an unallied tribute a knife." Van turned the knife over, checking the sharpness and ignoring Ella's insulted look. "Can you use these things?" he asked.

"No," Ella confessed. "But it's the same thing as a bow, right? Aiming and all that."

"You'd be surprised. May I have one?"

"Nope," Ella said, popping the 'p'. "Unless you agree to be my ally, then, by all means, take it." She glanced at his sling. "But I'm not sure you need it. That sling looks deadly," she said sarcastically. "You could lop off my limbs with that."

Van shrugged. "I admit, not the best weapon. I was too busy saving you. You know, you owe me. Unless the price of your life equals one rusty knife, we're even."

Ella could feel the fight for dominance between her and Van. But she could tell Van was just messing with her and he needed an ally as well.

"Oh, stop it with the fanfare!" Ella said, throwing her hands in the air. "Allies?"

Van smiled, tucking the knife into his belt. "Geez, you're uptight." He stuck his hand out and Ella took it. "Allies."

DISSEA ONYX pulled her club from a tribute's neck just as a cannon sounded.

Gasping from exertion, she faced the group of careers behind her. All were holding some sort of weapon and looked disheveled but full of adrenaline.

"Anyone objects that I take leadership of the pack?" she barked, wiping away some blood that trickled down her chin.

No one objects. It was only fitting. Dissea was the strongest. The best. The toughest.

"Good," she approved. "Maybe this year's careers are actually tough. Everyone get a small backpack and we'll go hunting. We'll count the bodies later. Morris, Sofia and Peleus, you search the town. Me, Crete and Sparks will raid the forest. Now move, pansies!"

The careers jumped to action, grabbing supplies. Dissea hefted one backpack and shouted at the rest to hurry up. Crete and Sparks flanked her. Dissea lifted her bloodied club to the sky. "PANEM ET CIRCENSES!" she screamed into the sky. She lowered her weapon, smiling. The Capitol loved a good battle cry. Not that she needed more sponsors. There are probably hordes of people waiting in line to sponsor them.

With that they went charging to the forest.

"Crete, you go north. Sparks, south. I'll go straight. Meet you guys back in camp before the sun goes down. If you get lost in the dark, tough it out tonight and come back first thing next morning. Got that?" Dissea leaped over a rock.

"Yes, ma'am," Crete and Sparks nodded.

"Great. Now, move!" The three careers split up.

Dissea began navigating through threes with ease, enjoying the wind and silence.

Her scalp pounded like crazy. That idiot boy, Van Noble, pulled her hair so hard she landed on the ground just as she was about to kill that cowardly-looking girl. It was supposed to be an easy kill.

Instead, she could've gotten killed.

What was wrong with her? The reason she volunteered for the Games in the first place was to show everyone, especially her superiors, that she could make her own decisions. She didn't have to follow what they say.

Instead, she wasn't careful enough and had almost gotten killed.

The weight of the friendship bracelet on her wrist suddenly became heavier.

Why had she gotten such a sentimental token? The friendship bracelet was woven by Misty. All of her best friends have one. Jasper and Misty. The colorful little twine wrapped around her wrist reminded her that there was at least one expectation she had to fulfill – her friend's expectations that she would come home.

She would always remember Misty consoling her with pretty words whenever she had gotten into a fight and refused to cool off. In the end, Misty was the only reason she stuck around school, that goody-two-shoes. She would remember Jasper, whose home she considers her own. She always stays at his house whenever she decides to run away.

Dissea suddenly laughed. She was such a difficult person.

She heard a twig crack, and it wasn't her fault. Her head whipped to the left. A scared tribute, not much younger than her, panicked, trying to climb a tree. She remembered the cameras and the Capitol people watching her. She had to make an interesting kill, but she was too lazy.

With her left hand, she clawed the boy out of the tree, making him fall with an 'ooomph' to the forest floor. She lifted him by the neck and proceeded to batter his head. Two hits and he was unconscious. Two more and the cannon sounded. She dropped his lifeless body to the ground and ran off finding more tributes.

Charging through the woods, she replayed the words her mentor had drilled on her before she was launched to the arena.

'_Assert dominance. Take control of the pack.'_

Done.

'_Scare the careers. Preferably kill someone in front of them.'_

Dissea was planning on finding a tiny mistake from that District Four boy and killing him. He was weak. He wasn't going to be much use.

'_Stay in the cornucopia. When the time is right, take all the supplies and burn the cornucopia. Hide.'_

The obvious thing to do. The mentor forgot to tell her to kill the rest of the careers in their sleep.

'_Before then, sleep away from the group. Insist on first watch every night. Slip away on second shift. Come back in sight before anyone wakes.'_

It's going to cost her some sleep. But she'll sleep when she dies, which will hopefully be years from now.

'_Make every kill interesting. There's no such thing as enough sponsors.'_

Oh crud. She messed that up the last kill.

Suddenly she burst through some undergrowth, stumbling on a pair of twelve-year-old allies.

Time to redeem herself.

They were already lying down for the night, even though there was probably an hour of sunlight left. One was blonde-haired and the other had her hair in pigtails. Once they saw Dissea, their eyes widened to saucers and they clutched one another, too shocked to stand up.

Dissea crouched like a panther, arching her back and revealing her bloodied teeth, making herself look as feral as possible. She made her green eyes look as menacing as she could. Gripping her club, she snarled at them, closing in like a tiger.

"Hello, pretties." She searched her memory for epic lines made by previous tributes in the Games. "Which one of you would like a haircut?"

The blondie screamed. Dissea turned her icy gaze to her. "You? Unfortunately, I've misplaced my scissors. We're going to have to do the job with my spiked club. Don't worry, I won't charge you anything." By now, Dissea was certain all cameras were on her. "But it might... sting a little."

Now, even Dissea was sick with her own show of cruelty. Dissea was breathing hard and she felt a weird sensation crawling up her chest.

Shame.

But she had to kill. She had to win. And to do that, she had to make a show, whether she liked it or not.

Winning has never been so messy.

SECK REEDOM could only hear the sounds of his footsteps pounding against the pavement, the hard slaps bouncing against the buildings of the ghost town.

He turned the corner, trying to lose invisible pursuers.

He was paranoid. Sometimes, he thought he could hear another's footsteps and he'd quicken his pace until he was sprinting, turning to small roads and squeezing between small gaps.

He was small, it was easily done, except he was lugging a very heavy crossbow around.

He had seen a golden bow, but he couldn't use them and everyone's eyes were on them. He had discovered the crossbow by accident, falling into a pile of weaponry. There were four arrows notched on it, so he didn't have to find a quiver.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to take refuge in the town instead of the forest. He had seen a handful of tributes slip into the mass of buildings and it wouldn't make sense if animals they could hunt didn't inhabit the place. The tributes would die a boring death of starvation.

Fortunately, he saw a couple of rabbits hopping around and an occasional fox.

Were foxes edible? He should've paid more attention in the hunting section of training.

Seck turned into a main-street and saw a three-storey brownstone building. There were taller buildings surrounding it. No one would be able to sneak up on it except from the front. It looked unconspicuous, almost blending in to the dark shades of the other buildings.

The perfect fort.

Seck entered, shutting the heavy door behind him. The door closed with a crack and Seck was plunged into darkness.

He groaned. Then, he remembered seeing a window beside the door. Reaching out blindly, his fingers brushed on fabric. He pulled on it and light streamed in. He examined the window. Something was peeling of the sides of the glass. Coming from District 3, he knew what it meant.

The window was tinted.

Seck grinned. It's like the place was built for him. He turned around, scattering dust around. Seck's jaw dropped when he saw something amazing parked behind him.

It's a jeep.

As in a four-wheeled vehicle.

Seck rushed to tear down some more curtains to get more light into the room. The jeep was dirty and rusted, but it's still a jeep. With some tinkering, maybe Seck could get it going. He was, after all, from District 3.

Of course, he might need gas. But he probably had enough sponsors to get him a couple of miles.

He noticed stairs towards the back of the room and decided to check the vantage point from the roof. He grabbed his crossbow and climbed up three sets of stairs until he finally reached the roof.

It wasn't a really good view. He couldn't see the forest and everywhere he looked were buildings with overgrown ivy on the sides.

He propped his heavy crossbow on the edge of the roof. He had one arrow notched. Seck decided to spend the night on the roof.

He hadn't been able to get anything from the cornucopia except the crossbow. The sun was setting and the air had become considerably cooler. He found some canvas sheets on the roof that's only slightly wet. It worked as a blanket. He was probably one of the most comfortable tributes in the arena now.

But the stars hadn't even come out yet. Seck exhaled. His stomach grumbled. Food.

Kicking the canvas sheets away, he decided to watch the streets for prey, though how he'd cook it he had not idea.

Seck had one hand on his crossbow trigger and proceeded to try and catch some dinner. He felt ridiculous.

He had just remembered his idiotic attire. He'd find some mud to mute the colors a bit the next day. He just needs to concentrate on getting through the first day.

Suddenly, Seck heard footsteps. He ducked, trying to look as small as possible. His crossbow was still perched on the side of the roof and he was ready to aim.

A flash or bright red suddenly erupted into Seck's line of sight. Seck panicked and shot at the color.

The arrow found its mark and the tribute hit the ground, screaming bloody murder.

Oops.


	7. Take it or Leave it

**Author's Note:**

**FINALLY! Great Scott, I thought I'd never update. Sorry dudes. Got too caught up with homework, watching the Back to the Future movies and reading new books.**

**But never fear, I am always here for the Hunger Games. And to doing something with my life instead of just bumming around in front of the TV/Internet/Xbox.**

**Lol jk I don't have an Xbox.**

**Thanks to Max Albina for sending a picture of Sofia Luiez! It really helped for future references and stuff.**

**Anyone who wants, you can gimmie a link to a picture that resembles your tribute.**

**Sorry if I'm not able to reply to stuff. I read my reviews on my phone and I keep forgetting to reply to my VERY VERY VERY hot reviewers.**

**And Hellopoppet 123? Took your awesome ideas. I hope I do the withdrawals justice! I've never met anyone who drinks like Van, so everything is based on logic and wikipedia. IOU! :P**

* * *

><p>ASHTON LENNOX was really kicking himself.<p>

All he'd apprehended from the cornucopia was a bow. He didn't even get the stupid quiver.

Nooo. That girl had swiped the quiver from under his nose. And he'd been _this_ close to getting it from her. Then Dissea had thought it was a good time to go sneaking up on him.

Ash hated to admit it – he owed Ella for warning him about Dissea, even though she probably only did it to save her own skin. He wasn't sure if she made it out of the clearing in the end.

Maybe it was best if she didn't.

Even if she did, Ash wished he had slugged Ella at least once.

Just for making things harder for him and delaying his inevitable win.

Without knowing it, he had counted the number of cannons. They had kept firing even after he had run out of the clearing.

There were nine.

Do the simple math and there were only fifteen tributes left. That was almost half the arena, wiped out. And it wasn't even the end of the day.

Sometimes he felt like the Capitol had stuck him with an expiry date. They knew when he'll die and they're just putting it off for the sake of entertainment.

It was enough to send someone sailing off a cliff.

And being a Lennox, he wasn't too patient to begin with, but he liked his life too much. It felt good to be breathing. He couldn't imagine not breathing.

Of course he wasn't, he was still alive!

Darn, he was talking to himself.

Ash continued his pointless train of thought as he wandered aimlessly around the forest like a cloud. Fear of careers tickled the back of his mind but he chose to ignore it. He was still angry at himself for not even taking some food. Or at least something sharp to stab some bunnies with.

Ash suddenly caught sight of his neon green pants.

Sighing, he went to look for mud to rub the stupid pants with. The climate was generally dry but then, he found something that feels like clay. He rubbed it on his pants. He turned his jacket inside out to reveal a thankfully black interior.

His stomach grumbled. He tried to launch some relatively straight sticks but it only went as far as a foot from him. It wasn't pointy, anyway.

Suddenly the branches creaked above him. Ash looked up, expecting some kind of deadly trap.

It wasn't.

It was an electric yellow parachute.

He was from District Five, the power district. He knew it was for him.

Finally! A bit of luck.

Ash easily scaled the tree, untangling the parachute. It was a stack of knives, assorted in length and width, serrated or smooth and fighting or throwing. If it was sent several days into the arena, it would be worth a fortune. His mentors thankfully acted fast.

Arrows and throwing knives… they're kinda the same thing right? Accuracy and stuff.

Ash picked a knife, aiming it at the tree trunk. It bounced off, hitting the trunk by the hilt.

"Crap."

He tried again, trying to work out how to do it. It bounced off again, almost impaling him.

"Crap."

Maybe this time.

"Crap."

Ash had searched his mind for tributes in the previous games that had featured tributes using throwing knives. Whenever a Game wasn't airing live, they'd played reruns of the most interesting Hunger Games.

A few weeks ago, Ash watched the 74th Hunger Games. This career, Claire or something, used throwing knives. Now she was deadly.

And she held the knife by the blade! Ash had been throwing the knives from the hilt.

Ash was so rushed in his excitement, he cut himself on a knife.

_Ow,_ he thought, wiping the blood on his pants. _That beats a paper cut._

He threw the knife and, miraculously, it stuck!

Ash let a whoop of victory before shutting his mouth again. He went over and plucked the knife out with effort.

No really. He had to use both feet to push off the tree to get it loose, falling off when it finally came off.

That's like, really, deep.

He lay there on the ground for a while, sucking on the thought that he had a weapon now.

Suddenly he heard a groan that wasn't quite human.

The ground beneath him was vibrating. Ash picked himself off the ground and immediately was knocked against a tree.

It was an earthquake.

"Crap."

But as long as he stayed away from falling trees, it was fine wasn't it? A bit of shaky ground never hurt anyone.

That was what Ash thought before he saw the ground falling. It was a sight. The ground was falling on itself, pulling huge trees along with it.

"Crap."

Ash picked up the knives and stuffed them into his jacket and slung his bow on his shoulder. It was nearly impossible to run, the ground having been transformed into an angry sea.

That was a fancy way of saying that he tripped a lot.

The falling ground just kept gaining on him. Ash was knocked against a tree. He pushed off it and stumbled on a rock, cutting his forearm. He did a sort of clumsy roll back up his feet and got smacked on a shaking branch, twigs raking his face.

The word 'crap' was repeated a lot.

Ash fleetingly wondered if the earthquake had killed any tributes. The sound of earth moving was loud enough to conceal any cannons.

He stopped wondering when he ran out of ground.

He was looking over at cliff. He looked back. The ground didn't show any sign of stopping. Back at the cliff, there was nothing to break his fall.

The gamemakers had pushed him to the limit.

Ash had a weapon about a minute ago. He thought he could take on anyone. But now, there's no one to kill and he'll die anyway.

The ground suddenly stopped. All Ash could hear was his own heavy breathing.

Then, the cliff began to move and fall, Ash still on it.

Ash went down.

SOFIA LUIEZ used to be fine.

Until she took an arrow to the shoulder.

She wasn't sure what happened. She was running along, looking for people to kill when she suddenly was sprawled on the ground a golden arrow sprouting from her shoulder.

Sofia was barely aware that she was in pain. She just stared at it dumbfounded.

Suddenly, a skimpy looking kid burst out of a nearby door. He was carrying a big crossbow and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," he squeaked out. "Or I'll shoot. This time at your heart."

Sofia moaned. "Gosh, please don't. Those things are pointy." She couldn't register fear, even though the boy was holding her life in his hands. She just couldn't. It was hard to believe that the little guy who looked as if he was straining under the weight of the crossbow could kill her.

She was staring at death in the eye, but unfortunately, it chose to come in the form of a little nerd.

The kid looked surprised. "Umm.. that's what arrows are supposed to do."

Sofia tried to stand up. "I'm not stupid. I know that." A wave of pain threw her off balance, almost knocking her back to the ground. "Gosh, you really aren't gonna shoot me, right? I can fight you." She looked for her whip but it lay a couple of meters away from her uselessly.

A few drops of blood trickled down her arm.

The boy looked at her condition. "Really? Because I seriously doubt it."

Sofia stared at the crossbow. She wasn't willing to admit defeat, but she couldn't possibly know how to get out of this mess.

Suddenly, she remembered Leonie. It made Sofia mad that she couldn't see the invisible cameras so that she could at least say goodbye to her. Sofia was mad at herself for getting caught off guard by this kid and probably going to die for it. Worst of all, she was mad that she couldn't keep her promise to Leonie. Her little sister deserved everything. Sofia took it away by dying.

"Get it over with," Sofia growled, disguising her shaky voice as fury. "Kill me, now."

Sofia wanted badly to close her eyes, but she couldn't let the boy have the satisfaction of seeing her in fear.

No. It wasn't the boy's fault. It was the capitol. The capitol for sending them all in this stupid arena to fight to the death. The boy wants to win too. He probably has a family. Some friends. Maybe a girlfriend.

Though Sofia doubts that thought severely.

The point is, Sofia shouldn't blame the boy. She allowed him a smile, telling him that it's alright.

The boy pulled the arrow back and Sofia recoiled a bit.

Suddenly, the boy slid the arrow back in the quiver. He reached out to the arrow in a quick motion and pulled it out. Sofia stifled a scream. A scream filled with questions.

He suddenly talked in whispers. "Not a word. I can still kill you. I choose not to. For now. Be quiet, something's after us.

The boy took Sofia's wrist and led her to his fort.

VAN NOBLE needed a cigarette.

He and Ella had been hunting for food when they crossed paths with Dissea. She didn't see them, too busy with her latest kill, but it had given them quite a scare.

So now, they were stuck on a tree, waiting for their hearts to stop racing.

Van's nerves were shot. He was hugging the trunk of the tree.

_I need a cigarette. I need a cigarette. For the love of Panem, hand me a cigarette._

"What?" Ella asked. She was chewing on her fingernails.

Van hadn't realized he was saying it out loud. "Nothing."

He was also very very very thirsty. "Hey Ella?"

"Hmm?"

"You got something to drink?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

They sat there in silence, waiting for something.

Van didn't get drunk often, compared to his friends – he usually only did it to put up a tough front, he didn't particularly enjoy the hangovers and feeling that his throat was searing hot – but now, he wished that he had a huge bottle of happy juice to guzzle down. He was too full of adrenaline and sitting down doing nothing made his head throb.

So he did the next best thing.

"Hey, beautiful," he crooned. Maybe he could put up a show, get sponsors, and hopefully Lyle could send him down a bottle. No, scratch that, he wouldn't let Van get drunk. Maybe a pack of cigarettes. Yeah, right now, Van would kill to have a bit of a smoke.

His hands were slightly shaking and they were clammy. He hated clammy hands. What if he was shaking a girl's hand? They'd run away. That isn't cool. He hated girls running away. He hated a lot of things right now. He wanted to cuss at everything.

Ella didn't respond in the usual girly way. She looked at him weirdly with her green eyes. One eyebrow was slowly raised. "Um, ew."

That killed conversation. Yep.

A few more minutes of silence and Van's head was throbbing as if someone had snuck in his head and screamed. He hung upside down the branch, feeling blood rush up his face. It slightly dulled the pain, but he still felt woozy.

The branch creaked slightly and Van thought it was about to snap off. He saw Ella hook her foot on a forked branch and lean upside down as well, dangling next to Van. She let her arms get pulled by the gravity and her red hair made her head look like it was on fire, standing up.

"You okay? You look kinda green," she said.

Yeah. No kidding. "I'm okay," he lied. "Just annoyed having to just sit around, hiding from careers. I don't like feeling helpless." That was true. He hated that he only had a sling. Nothing more. He hated that he had to wait on a tree like a scared cat while careers that he could take on if it was a fair fight go hunting for him.

Ella nodded. "Why do you hang upside down? Is this, like, a meditative position or something?"

Ella's abrupt change of topic made Van hesitate. "Nah, I just find it helpful with the headaches."

"Why do you have headaches?"

Van shrugged. "I dunno. I just need a cigarette."

Ella scrunched up her nose and her eyes were fixed at a distance. "Cigarettes are bad for you. You'll get tired easily. No one smokes in District 12. There's enough smoke coming from burning coal already. You also don't want to smoke in a place with loads of coal and nowhere to run. You could burn the whole place down.

Van never thought about that. He couldn't imagine living in a place that was like a huge bomb, ready to detonate at the slightest spark of fire.

"What's it like in District 12? Aside from the smoke and the coal and the ashes and everything depressing. Tell me something happy."

Ella thought. She thought for a long time. Van would've thought she had gone to sleep if her emerald eyes weren't still open. "Can't think of any," she finished simply.

"What," Van taunted. "You don't have friends or family? That is depressing."

Ella laughed. "Oh, now I know. I'm the mayor's kid."

"Sure, and I'm President Snow."

"No you aren't. You're too ugly." Van lightly slugged her in the shoulder, laughing. "And I am."

"Rich kid, eh?" he said, slightly jealous. "How'd you get into this thing? You wouldn't need tesserae. The odds must be _really_ bad. You'd only have what, five, six papers?"

Ella frowned. "You'd be surprised. Well, I wasn't chosen. I only had six. But my friends all had more than thirty each. One of my friends got chosen. She was… blind, to put it simply. I bailed her out."

Van whistled softly. Ella must have loved her friend so much to take her place in a battle to the death. "That's heavy."

"Yeah. Enough about me. How's you get in? What's your life story?"

"Not as interesting as yours, per say. I lived a normal life. I needed tesserae, but only had 18 slips in."

"Did you get reaped?"

Van laughed at himself. "You wanna hear something stupid?"

"Yes."

"Well, I volunteered, and it wasn't for a noble cause like yours. I just wanted to have fun in front of live TV. See what I can pull off. Man, am I in serious trouble."

Ella was silent, in shock. They hung upside down for a while.

Van filled the silences. "Not that I'm a stranger to trouble anyway. I do stupid stuff – I get into fights and drink and party and skip class and throw beer blasts and steal and get arrested. I don't regret it. It was fun." He shot a grin at Ella. "Now I want to trade all those things to win this thing. I want to live. 17 years ain't enough. I've still got a lot of living – not to mention fun – to do."

"I'm 16," she said softly. "Not fair, you get one more year of life than me."

"Hey, take it or leave it."


	8. The Cliff

**Author's Note:**

**YAY AN UPDATE! Sorry for having such an irregular schedule. Loads of things have been happening.**

**Ahem, remember that first chapter, when I said I'll post a one-shot every couple of chapters? Well, I had a sudden epiphany.**

**All my one-shots in my computer suck. Yeah, so I'm not gonna post a one-shot every couple of chapters. If I get a sudden burst of inspiration, I will. But don't hold your breath.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>SECK REEDOM was spooked.<p>

Seck grabbed the girl's whips and dragged the girl inside, accidentally letting her go and sending her careening into the far wall. She let out a quiet moan. Seck didn't check if she was okay. He found a chain and wrapped it around the door handles. He looked out of the tinted windows, breath fogging up the glass.

Not a minute later, a Career came into sight. He felt my breath catch and leaned back slightly to the shadows. Even though the glass was tinted, Seck was not taking any chances.

The Career was massive. Almost twice Seck's height and probably as heavy, he looked like a hawk. He was gaunt and dark, his muscled arm gripping a sword that was coated with red. His eyes were black and stone-cold. Even though he was wearing a vacant expression, it didn't make him seem any less dangerous.

Seck's worst fears came true when he stopped in front of the Fort.

Yes, Seck had decided to name the building the Fort. Yes, he knew it wasn't a creative name, but the building had become his savior. He needed to show gratitude.

Back to the humongous killing machine.

The career stared at the window for what seemed like an eternity. When he moved away, Seck relaxed.

Until he moved to the door.

Seck reached for his crossbow.

The career jiggled the doorknob. Failing to open, he gave up and continued his search.

Seck absolutely inflated with relief.

"That was close," the girl said.

Seck turned to the girl. He had forgotten she was there.

"What do you mean?" Seck was surprised she didn't call for help.

"Peleus would kill me if he saw me lying down on the job. Which brings me to my next point," she nodded to the jeep. "Did you know that you have a jeep in your house?"

"It's a fort. The Fort. And yes, I do."

"Whatever." She didn't make a move to get up. "Why didn't you just kill me?"

Seck licked his bottom lip and laid his crossbow on a three-legged stool. He opened the trunk of jeep just to have something to do and not have eye-contact with the girl. "You're a career, I hope?"

"Yeah."

"I needed a career."

"For?" she prompted, shedding her jacket and looking at her shoulder wound. It looked deep, the area around the skin looked red, even though the blood had already stopped. She prodded on it and winced.

"My master plan to work." He looked over the hood at the girl. She noticed her wound for the first time. "Oh, hey, that looks nasty. Want some help? That could get infected, you know."

"Excellent assessment," she said sarcastically. "I can handle it. What's your master plan?"

"Between you and me… and the rest of Panem-" This made her laugh. "I have a plan that'll wipe out the career and half of the tributes in the arena."

Her mouth dropped open in shock, then closed again in skepticism. "Oh yeah? Suuuuuure."

"I sense doubt. Well, the plan is gonna include this beautiful Jeep and someone who knows how to use this bloody crossbow."

She laughed. "A crossbow? You don't know how to use a crossbow? It's the easiest thing in the world! It's practically like a gun."

Seck snorted. "Yeah well, my aiming skills aren't exactly perfect. Actually, you should be grateful I'm not an archer. You'd be dead and that arrow would've pierced your heart."

She shrugged, sending a wave of pain down her shoulder. She tore a piece of cloth from her pants and made a bandage around it.

"What's your name?" she said suddenly. "I'm Sofia. District 4."

"Seck. From District 3."

"So, Seck. How are you gonna get gasoline, eh?"

Seck found a wrench lying around on the floor and used it to fix up some screws. "I'm betting that my mentor will send me some gasoline or something. But thing is, I don't think I have enough sponsors."

Sofia was catching on. "You want me to tell my mentor to get you gasoline."

Seck nodded enthusiastically. "I promise not to kill you!"

"Tempting," Sofia said. "Sure. How do I do that?"

Seck shrugged. "I assume our mentors are watching us. So I guess all you have to do is ask for it."

Sofia gave him a funny look. "Okay… Hey Tweedle? Can you give me some gasoline? Yes, I actually trust the little twerp."

Seck gave her an annoyed look. Sofia ignored him.

"Look what's outside."

Seck turned and saw an ocean-blue parachute just outside the window.

"Woah, this Tweedle guy sure works fast."

ASH LENNOX was hanging on to life.

The cliff didn't collapse completely and by a miracle, he had hung on to a root.

Ash was covered head to toe it dirt. At least now he didn't have to worry about camouflage.

Below him were miles and miles of land. Ash swayed in the wind but couldn't move because he was afraid the root would dislodge.

Ash looked up. He wasn't that far from the top, maybe he could pull his way up with his knives. The only problem was that he couldn't reach his knives. If he couldn't hold his weight with his one hand, he'd be in trouble.

Ash looked in the horizon. The desert went on and on. The world looked so open. You couldn't see much in District five other than buildings and power plants, and even if you stood as close as you dare to the electric fences, you wouldn't see much but the daunting forest.

Such a beautiful place to die.

Ash was losing his grip on the branch. He was sure all cameras were on him. He was aware that half of the Capitol had put money on if he was going to fall or not. It was not a comforting thought.

Suddenly, something tickled his face. Caught by surprise, Ash almost let go of the branch.

He focused his eyes on the swaying object. At first, he thought it was a thin, brown snake but it was actually someone's belt.

Someone was rescuing him.

"Grab it!" squeaked a high-pitched voice.

Ash didn't think twice. He let go of the branch and twirled his forearm around the belt. The branch he was holding on only moments ago came out of the ground and fell. He swayed for a while, until he slammed into the rocky cliff. Fortunately, he got his feet on a thin ledge and started climbing up. His arms were already trembling from effort by the time he reached the top. He rolled over and started gasping for breath.

"You okay?"

Ash pushed himself to a sitting position, trying to maintain dignity.

A tiny hand pushed a water bottle to him. He gulped it down thankfully, feeling a twinge of guilt. He was drinking another tribute's supplies.

"Thanks," Ash said, wiping his forehead.

"No problem. Got a breath mint?"

Ash looked up sharply. "_Rooba_?"

Right in front of him was his district tribute, the red-haired, mint-loving, twelve-year-old Rooba. Ash had thought that she had been one of the tributes that got killed in the bloodbath round. He hadn't expected her to come this far, with supplies even.

Rooba was sitting cross-legged on ground, nervously organizing her things in a small camouflaged bag. "No, of course you don't," mumbling mostly to herself, ignoring Ash's surprise. "It's the arena, stupid. They don't have breath mints." She looked up at Ash and gave a start, as if he had just appeared. "Hey Ash. What brings you here?"

Ash stood up and surveyed the scene beyond Rooba. It was odd – the ground made a narrow trench, as if the cave-in had followed Ash. Nothing else was effected. "The earthquake. How did you escape?"

"I followed the earthquake. It seemed to be targeting you only. Weird, isn't it?" She stopped fiddling with her bag and stood up, slinging the backpack on her tiny shoulders. "It's as if the gamemakers wanted to kill you."

Ash snorted. "That's not so far from the truth. The gamemakers wanted to kill everyone. Maybe I sprung a trap or something." He turned and faced the cliff where he almost died.

Rooba shook her head and Ash heard her scuffling among the dirt behind him. "They didn't want to kill you. If they did, they'd cut off the entire cliff. They didn't and let you live. Maybe it's a test or something?"

Ash didn't reply. Rooba was smart for a twelve-year-old.

Rooba went on. "Maybe they're gonna test everyone. Maybe the gamemakers all have a special demise or trap for us and we have to get out of it. Maybe that was your test, Ashton."

Ash shrugged, but he sensed truth in her words. It was creepy. "You're talking as if this is a damn school, with all the testing and stuff. Do you think you've had your test, Rooba?"

"No," she said. "I don't think so. All I've done so far was stealing a backpack from a dead tribute." She said this solemnly.

Ash felt sorry for her. She was still small. She didn't deserve all this.

Ash paced the edge of the abyss. He picked up a smooth pebble and threw it as far as he could. He watched it fall. Before it had reached the bottom, it was too far away to see.

"Look, Rooba. I'm glad you've rescued me and everything. I don't see any harm in an alliance. What do you say?"

"Sure, Ashton." She paused. "I need a breath mint so baaaaad," she whined.

Ash snickered. "Well, maybe they have breath mints growing out of trees in the arena. I won't be surprised if there are, seeing as this place was made by the Capitol."

Rooba sighed. "It would be pretty cool if we won, wouldn't it?"

Ash suddenly felt very sad. "Both of us can't win, Rooba."

There was a silence. Ash didn't want to look at his new ally. Suddenly, she made a funny noise, like a choked sob. Ash thought he had made her cry.

"Hey, look Rooba, sorry- "

Ash turned around and Rooba was on the ground, a big red splotch growing on her white shirt. Ash's eyes traveled upwards.

Dissea was standing over Rooba's body, holding a dagger soaked to the hilt with blood.

She was glaring at Rooba, as if she had done something unforgiveable. Dissea sent the dagger to the ground, where it stuck just above Rooba's head, like a headstone.

"Awww, did I just ruin someone's hopes and dreams?"

All this time, Ash had stood there, frozen with disbelief and shock.

Dissea's eyes finally gazed at Ash. She cocked her head sideways, as if considering something. "Yes?"

That one syllable woke Ash up. "You just killed her."

One of Dissea's eyebrows flew up with mock exasperation. "Yeah, I did. And I didn't even need to use my club. Just one of those silly little daggers that couldn't even inflict a paper cut on anyone. But it did its job didn't it?" Dissea grinned. "Don't worry, District Five. She's not dead yet. The cannon hadn't blown yet, though it won't be for long. Just enough for her to suffer a bit of pain."

Rooba's eyelids were flickering and her chest was heaving, with every breath, a whole wave of blood gushed out. She was fading fast.

Ash wanted to rush to Rooba's side but he couldn't let his guard down, not in front of Dissea. He took out two of his biggest hunting knives out of his pocket.

"YOU MURDERER!" He charged at Dissea, knives dangerously cutting the air.

Dissea wasn't prepared for the sudden lunge, but her killer reflexes made her dodge in time. She rolled backwards and got out her club. Ash didn't give her any other time to recover. He jumped to the air and brought his knives downward in a swift motion. Dissea blocked with her club and rolled sideways, kicking Ash's knee as she went.

Ash tumbled down but got up, fueled with rage. He lunged again making quick swipes at the now-standing Dissea. This time, Dissea didn't back away quick enough and got a long slash on her cheek.

The sight of her own blood made the two storms pause.

Dissea wiped her blood with one hand and looked at it. "Hadn't seen any of my own in ages. You're paying, District Five. With your own."

Dissea now made an attack. She threw her entire weight into a swing. It caught Ash's right arm. He yelled in pain. By miracle, he didn't drop any of his knives.

Ash tried to retaliate with his right hand, hoping to catch Dissea by surprise. Dissea suddenly moved forward and caught Ash's injured arm, knife just hovering inches above her face.

Ash howled with pain as Dissea twisted his bloody arm behind him. She dropped her club and his arm unexpectedly and moved in front of Ash. He grabbed his shoulders and raised her knee, hitting his stomach. She repeated this several times until Ash was on the ground, gasping for air.

Dissea made a last vicious kick to his side and finally stopped. She was breathing heavily. "Gosh, I held it longer than I should have. Now where's that stupid knife? I want to finish you."

As Dissea was looking , Ash rolled over and looked to the side. He saw Rooba's limp body. Her flanks were moving but just barely.

Ash looked to the edge of the cliff. He could just crawl to the edge quick enough so that Disssea wouldn't notice. Ash tightened his grip on his knives and started crawling as fast as he could towards the edge.

He felt a bit of nausea looking at the bottom. Then, he started his climb down. He used his fighting knives as a hook on the rocks. Never has Ash been so scared in his life. He climbed down enough so that he wasn't in the line of sight of Dissea, under an overhanging of rocks.

He heard Dissea. "Hey, little piggy! Momma's found a nice butcher knife! Little pi – hang on. Where are you?"

Ash couldn't even laugh at his genius. Dissea said a few more threats but Ash couldn't hear it. He probably had a concussion or something. Everything was blurry.

After probably an eternity of silence, Ash plucked up enough courage to climb back up. He immediately saw Rooba. He suddenly forgot about Dissea's threats.

"Rooba!" he yelled.

He ran to her side and shook her slightly. She looked so pale and fragile and it looked like a single gust of wind would blow her away.

Dissea didn't lie. Rooba was still alive but only barely. Her breaths were coming out in short pants.

Ash hands hovered, not knowing what to do. He usually had his wits about him, which was good for dodging fists thrown at him. But now, his mind was a total blank.

Rooba's eyes suddenly opened and a single tear escaped them. Her face was contorted with pain. "End this," she whispered. "It hurts."

Ash shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He found his hands wrapped on Rooba's tiny ones.

While Ash was blinking his eyes to stop tears from falling, he felt a coldness in his fingers hands. It was Dissea's knife. The same one that had stabbed her. Rooba had prodded him with it.

Ash bit his lips so hard, they began to bleed. He shook his head again. He didn't want Rooba to suffer, but he couldn't kill her. Not with his own hands. After a long pause she nodded slightly and raised it to her own throat before Ash could stop her.

Ash averted his eyes to the darkening sky as she slit her own throat.

That's when the tears came.

Once he felt her blood dripping through his fingers, he looked down at her face, careful not to look at her bloodied neck. Her green eyes were glassy. He reached out and closed them for the last time. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, holding her hand.

It was long enough for him to see the peacekeepers come down from their hovercraft, there to extract Rooba's body.

He stayed in that position and when one peacekeeper grabbed his shoulder, he whirled around, scooping up Dissea's knife and sent it to his leg. The peacekeeper crumpled and he saw another take out something that looks like a whip made out of lightning. An electric sensation was the last thing he felt.

Ash woke up a few hours later. He was facing the sky. Night had finally fallen. The end of the horrible first day of the Games. He tried to look for the moon, only to find something better.

In the dark, Ash could slightly make out someone with hair the color of rust and a pair of eyes glinting like emeralds.

"Rooba?"

DISSEA was nursing the long cut on her cheek.

She had been the first one to arrive in the Career camp. She had organized the supplies in the cornucopia, examining everything. Enough for a whole month for everyone in the pack. These Capitol people weren't cheap.

She heard a rustling in the undergrowth. Immediately, she grabbed a spear that was propped up against a crate of apples.

She heard a whistle. A long low note and a sudden high one. She lowered the spear. Someone friendly.

The blonde District One boy, aptly named Sparks, emerged from behind a tree. He was carrying a sword, which wasn't bloody. Disapproving.

"Sparks? Good. Spears aren't my forte anyway." She drove it onto the ground. "You get any kills?"

He shook his handsome head and sheathed his sword. "South side is clear. The arena's a couple of acres wide, cut off by high cliffs. About a day's journey to walk across, assuming it's a circular field."

Dissea yawned pointedly. "Don't care. Want me to listen? Get me a few kills."

It wasn't long before Morris, the burly boy from District Four, wearing a specially made glove with metal knuckles.

Dissea turned to Morris. "Kills, Morris?"

"Two or three. Call me Mac. Morris doesn't sound good."

Dissea inwardly cringed. The monotone and lack of word choice made him sound so unbearably _boring_. But he did get her a couple of kills. She rewarded him. "Mac it is, then. Guard the fort you two. I'm going to get some firewood." Dissea grabbed an axe and whistled as she walked out on the two allies.

Dissesa had gone a considerably short distance when she heard footsteps behind her. It was Sparks.

"What do you want?" Dissea said, not glancing at him. "Didn't I tell you to stay in the cornucopia?"

"Yep," he said cheerfully. "But I need to talk to you about something."

Dissea found a nice, non-hollowed log and began chopping it to pieces. "Yeah? Spit it down, Sparks."

"It's about the Four tribute. Mac's District partner, Sofia."

Dissea remembered the girl who always wore hobo gloves. She didn't look like a typical Career. "Yeah? What about the scrawny kid?"

"She didn't volunteer."

"I am aware."

"She's not a Career."

"Technically."

"She's weak."

"Aren't you all?"

"Why don't we kill her? The supplies will drain out if we have an extra mouth to feed."

"Sparks, we have a month's supply."

"Still-"

"You know what, Sparks?" she suddenly interrupted. "You're right. I need to set an example to the other tributes. Exactly like my mentor said. Have a show of disciplining. No one would betray us."

Sparks looked baffled. "_Us_?"

"Aren't you my deputy?"

Sparks searched for words. "Isn't Mac your deputy? Or Crete? Crete's your district partner."

Dissea laughed mirthrlessly. "Well, they don't know that, do they?"

Dissea began chopping in silence while Sparks admired his own new title. He was leaning against a tree. He broke it a couple minutes later. "Where'd you get that wound on your cheek? Looks new."

Dissea stopped chopping and began fingering her cheek. It was still red. "This wiseguy tried to fight back. Took care of him, though," she lied. She knew Ashton wasn't dead.

Sparks laughed, a light, airy tone. "Why do I get the feeling that this wiseguy is Ashton Lennox?"

"Your powers of deduction are amazing," she said sarcastically.

"How'd you finish him?"

"Threw him off a cliff," Dissea said in a careless tone, she turned to hide a proud smile. "After I killed his little ally."

"Nice," Sparks complimented.

"The ally is actually helpful, for a twelve-year-old. She had an… interesting theory about the arena."

Sparks perked up."Yeah?"

"Yep. She thinks that there are traps out here designed for a specific tribute, targeting their weaknesses."

Sparks didn't answer for a while. "That's heavy stuff."

"Sure is."

"Hey, D-"

Sparks was cut off by a low growl in the shadows. Dissea and Sparks swiveled toward the sound. Dissea held the axe ready and Sparks unsheathed his sword. They began backing towards the camp.

"What was that?" Sparks asked.

They heard the growl again.

"Mutts," Dissea hissed.

Suddenly, something lunged towards Dissea. She only saw something big and grey before she was on the ground, the mutt pinning her down.

Dissea was suddenly face to face with the biggest grey wolf she had ever seen. Its eyes were bottomless pits of obsidian and its mouth was packed with razor sharp teeth. It's fur was smothering Dissea, but that wasn't the biggest problem.

The biggest problem was that it had two heads.

Dissea's heart quickened but her axe had been knocked out her hand when she was pushed down. Dissea called for Sparks.

"YO! Get your butt out here!"

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sparks heading for one of the heads. He raised his sword high and brought it down one of its necks.

It landed on Dissea and she hastily shoved it away. The mutt had backed away, wincing with pain. Dissea scrambled back up and grabbed the axe. She swung it at the mutt. It hit its flank and stuck there like glue. The mutt let out a high-pitched whine before retreating fully.

Sparks had his hands on his knees, finding his breath. "You're covered with blood. You look like a crushed tomato."

Dissea walked over to the head, kicking it over. "Gimmie your sword, Sparks."

"Why?"

"I wanna carry it over to camp and I'm not using my hands."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Ugh, Seck and Sofia are such great characters and I have them stuck in the Fort. I'll have something better for them in future chapters.**

**PLEASE do not hate on Dissea. She's a slight phycopath, but then again, aren't all the greatest people phycopaths? And, she's not as evil as the Capitol. She's just confused. Give her a chance :)**

**Oh, and Rooba's death wasn't as epic as I thought it would be. Too much melodrama and not enough pain. But I'm sad to kill her off.**

**Or did I? O_o**

**Anyway, Caesar Flickerman here has some words to say about the Games. Who do you think will win, Caesar?**

**Caesar Flickerman: SNOW FTW! YEAAAAH! BRING THE POPCORN!**

**Okay. Effie?**

**Effie Trinket: OMG SPARKS SO HOOOOT.**

**How about you, Haymitch?**

**Haymitch Abernathy: . **

**He's a little drunk, folks. Please leave a review.**


	9. Tact

**Author's Note:**

**Woooah. Quick update by my standards. Also, this chapter is quite short by my standards. A mere 2,199 words. Yeah, more of a filler chapter, expect action next chapter.**

**Then again, I don't really live up to my promises, do I? :)**

**You guys are awesome. I'd catch a grenade for you. (of course, the grenade should still have the pin in it. Remember, don't play with fire!)**

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><p>SOFIA LUIEZ was looking for food.<p>

She had passed out on the garage watching Seck tinker with the Jeep. The next morning, she woke up, her stomach about to digest itself. She had also found Seck sleeping inside the jeep, covered with dust.

Sofia had taken initiative and borrowed Seck's crossbow. Not long has passed until she saw a flock of pigeon-like things perched on a roof and took down a two. It would only last them a day, but right now, Sofia wanted to digest some meat.

She came back finding Seck underneath the jeep messing with something that looked like fire. Sofia pulled Seck out by his legs, thinking that he had set himself on fire.

Seck had fashioned himself a mask from a trashcan lid with eyeholes in them, which made him look like a little kid playing dress up. He was holding a lighter. "What is your problem?" he asked, lifting his mask.

Sofia dropped Seck's legs with a painful thud. "Well excuse me for thinking that you've killed yourself. Where'd you get that lighter, anyway?" Sofia said, changing the subject.

Seck looked at the tiny green lighter. "Another sponsorship gift. My mentors know technology and mech enough to know that I'd seriously need to obtain at least some degree of pyrotechnics to get this hunk of aluminum to move. The circuits and overdrives have been short-circuited and by the burn marks on the general apparatus and gears, it looks like it's been done on purpose. The heat from the lighter would be sufficient for me to generate friction and liquefy some metal and probably shape them to work my will. It's the second day so the lighter will be merit about two dollars. Assuming I did my arithmetic correctly and our mentors has halved our sponsorship money, and if I had premeditated the ratio of Capitol citizens and the average of Career-"

Sofia's head was spinning. Seck talked a billion syllables per second and it was hard enough to keep up without him throwing in some huge word into the mix. "Please shut up. I got us some birdies!"

Seck stopped talking and his eyes grew wide. "FOOD! But did you get any firewood? We need that to cook the thing."

"Nope, but I saw some dry grass outside."

Sofia ran out to pull out tufts of dry grass from in front of the house. She wondered what it looked like she was doing on TV. Gardening?

A few minutes later, they had a fire burning and had skinned the birds and had one roasting over a spit.

Seck watched the smoke filtering out of the open window. "I hope that it doesn't send smoke signals. That would be very stupid."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "You think too much. How's the car going?"

Seck shrugged. "It's hard. The thing won't move an inch. We should scrap the plan."

"What? No! I like the plan. It's our chance of winning." And since Sofia always meddled with things, she added, "Show me what's wrong with the thing."

Seck rolled his eyes, this time. "If a District Three like me can't fix it, I highly doubt a Career can."

"HEY! I'm intelligent!" she said, indignantly.

Seck snorted. "Please. You're a career. You couldn't even fix a bike."

"Not true. I fixed this old bike I stole from this crabby old guy. When I was done with it, my little sister could ride on it, no sweat."

"I bet the only thing wrong with it was a deflated tire."

Sofia threw her hands up in the air and stalked over to the car. She walked to the back of the car and kicked the bumper. "MOVE YOU INSUFFERABLE PIECE OF SH-"

And it roared to life.

Seck immediately flew, examining the humming vehicle. He shook his head. "The Capitol's pulling a prank on me."

Sofia laughed, having put one over the younger boy. "Whatever. We've got a moving vehicle now. Are we gonna move on with the plan?"

Seck shrugged, grabbing the fuel container and dumping it into the tank. "How's your arm?"

Sofia rolled her shoulder. There was a bit of pain but other than that, she was fine. "I can shoot a crossbow."

"Then we leave for the career camp tomorrow. Today, we stake out our target. By the way, once we slaughter the career camp, how're you gonna get rid of the other tributes?"

"I have a plan."

"Are you going to tell me the plan?"

"No."

"Are you gonna tell me why?"

"No?"

"Am I gonna get killed?"

"Maybe. If you're careful, you won't. By the way, once the last career's gone, our alliance is through. I can't kill you. Might as well kill the alliance."

"Okay. Got it"

ELLA DE WINTER found a guy covered in blood.

"Is he dead?" Van asked.

Ella prodded the guy with her foot. Seeing no reaction, she pushed him over to reveal his face.

"Hey, I know him!" Van exclaimed. "It's Ash! I love this guy!"

Ella gave Van a look and checked Ash for a pulse. "He's still alive," Ella said, surprised. "What should we do with him?"

Suddenly, Ash mumbled something.

"I don't want to kill him," Van said. He went over and laid both of his hands on Ash's shoulders and shook him like jelly. "OI! DISSEA'S A'COMING!"

Ash's eyes suddenly opened fully and he backed up so much, Ella had to grab him before he went over the edge of the cliff.

"Dude. Chill for a second."

"Rooba, Rooba. She killed her. But I saw Rooba. Just now. I did, I'm not crazy! I just saw her! Where is she?"

Ella exchanged glances with Van. Van made the 'crazy' gesture. Ella muffled a laugh.

Ash's maniac eyes looked at Ella and then he deflated like a balloon. "You look exactly like Rooba."

Ella was taken aback. Piecing together Ash's ramblings, she had a pretty good idea what happened to Rooba. She suddenly realized that Ash was covered in blood.

"I'm sorry," Ella offered.

Van helped Ash up. "Hey, you okay? Who's Rooba?"

"She used to be my ally. Until Dissea."

Van visibly shuddered. "Sorry, man."

Ella spotted something golden strapped to his shoulders. It looked familiar. Ella narrowed her eyes. "Hey, I remember you now! You almost killed me with that thing." She pointed to Ash's bow.

Ash slipped the bow off in a fluid motion. "Take it. Provided we take turns using it. I've got knives."

Ella grabbed the bow off Ash. It was beautiful. Golden wood engraved with complicated spirals and a lightweight carry with very flexible string. It was a bajillion times better than her makeshift one at home.

"I would totally hug you if you weren't covered in blood, right now."

Ash lifted the corners of his mouth a bit, which could've been a Cheshire grin for all Ella cared.

Suddenly, the clouds erupted and rain fell. The sky turned as dark as night even though it was probably the afternoon. Van cursed professionally at the sky.

The huge trenches in the ground was quickly filling up with water.

"This could turn into a flash flood," Van observed. "Let's get some high ground.

They retreated into the confines of the forest and climbed a steadily slopping hill. Once there, they all took refugee under a huge willow tree.

Ella's fingers have progressively turned numb. She rubbed them together, hoping to get some feeling back in them. "W-wish we could make a f-fire," she chattered.

Van curled up in his jacket. "T-too wet for that."

A drop of rain escaped the willow's canopy and landed on Ella's neck. She breathed in sharply. She saw her breath come out again in the air, like a chimney. "It's c-cold."

Ash suddenly spoke up. "I didn't notice," he said sarcastically.

Ella shrugged. "I heard somewhere that you shouldn't stand too close to trees in a lightning storm. You could get struck by lightning."

Van laughed bitterly. "Don't tempt the Gamemakers."

Suddenly, they saw a flash of light, followed by a crack, like a whip.

"Crap," Ash spat.

All three tributes stood up at the same time, only to be knocked forward off their feet as their old willow tree burst into a million pieces of burning bark and leaves.

Ella's vision was filled with colored stars and darkness, hearing only echo-y splatters of rain against rock and not much else. She blinked them away.

Fortunately, Ella's landing was softened by a bush. Unfortunately, that bush had thorns.

Ella leaped up again. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow."

She surveyed the willow tree. It was gone, all that's left was a black hole in the ground and some leaves on fire, put out quickly by the pouring rain.

She saw Van and Ash limp out into her line of vision.

"Well, t-there goes our luxury v-vista."

VAN CAFANAUGH was trudging through the mud aimlessly with two of his allies.

"We've been at t-this for hours. W-where exactly are we going?"

"Just keep moving," Ash muttered for the umpteenth time.

"Oh. Sure. Let's keep moving. Yeah, let's do that. Let's pay no mind to the fact that it's raining cats and dogs and that it's so dark, it's a miracle we haven't fallen to our deaths."

"Well if you want to stay put and be zapped by some more lightning, be my guest," Ash said.

Van rolled his eyes at the other teen. He made a face to Ella, as if saying, '_What a party pooper_.'

But of course, she didn't notice. She was too busy… fawning over Ash's probably exaggerated story. No one could fight face to face with Dissea and survive a minute. No twelve-year-old kid would kill herself.

Right?

"Poor Rooba," Ella said, shaking her head.

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "It wasn't her time to go. I really miss her," he said, shooting a quick glance at Ella.

The glance didn't go unnoticed by Van.

"Yeah well," Van inserted. "Whoever said the Games would be easy? Sacrifices must be made."

Ash turned on Van, eyes alight with fury. "She didn't sacrifice _anything_. Don't you dare say her death was just a sacrifice. She wasn't just something disposable. She _died_, for heaven's sake."

Van held his hands up in surrender. "Didn't mean it like that, bro."

Ash turned around and walked on. "Whatever."

Ella looked at Van imploringly.

"What?" Van asked. "Problem?"

"You have no tact."

"I have all the tact in the world," Van said, words slightly muted by the thunder. They walked after Ash, fearful of another lightning strike. "Besides, I was your ally first," he added.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she said, exasperated.

Ash opened his mouth but no words came out.

Ella laughed. "All the tact in the world, eh?"

"Oh, go drown in a flash flood."

Ella rolled her eyes, though still smiling. "What's our next plan?"

"Survive, I guess."

"No, I mean, do we have any strategy?"

"Nope."

Ella looked at Ash. "No idea," he said.

Van groaned. "This is going to be one long Game."

Suddenly, there was a rustling on the bushes. Ella immediately notched an arrow and released it to the bushes.

Ash couldn't stop her in time. "Ella, what if that was a person?" Van moaned.

Van shrugged. "One less person to kill," he defended her.

Ash gave Van a look. An evil one.

Van pretended not to see. It was wicked evil.

It was even worse than Finnbarr's, and when he did it to this one kid at school, he got a suspension.

Ella crawled in the bushes and cried out. "Woah! Get a load of this thing!"

Ash got on his knees beside Ella and together, they pulled out something… dead.

The rotten stench hit Van's nose and he gagged a bit. He covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt. "GROSS. What is that thing?"

Ella got up and began retching on some bushes. Ash had covered his nose with his sleeve. "I think it's a mutt. A dead one. But it wasn't killed by Ella's arrow."

"Ugh, that's quite a sight."

The mutt looked like a dog with silver fur. One shoulder was broader than the other, and in the broader shoulder, there was something that looked like a stump, covered with scabs and already writhing with maggots. Its eyes were still open, which made it look like it was still alive.

Ash kicked the mutt over, showing an axe deeply imbedded on its silvery flank. Ash grabbed the hilt and pulled it out of the mutt with effort.

"We're near a tribute camp."

Ella stumbled back, wiping her mouth on her wet jacket. She still looked a little green. "Ugh. There goes my breakfast." She noticed the axe. "Where'd that come from?"

"The mutt's body."

Ella's face turned greener but she held it in. "Oh."

Ash offered the handle to Van. "Take it. You're the only weaponless one."

Van beamed. "Thanks, buddy!" He took it. "Sorry for questioning your survival methods."

Ash gave the evil look. Van shrank away and hid behind Ella, who was already choked up with laughter.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Woah. Van and Ash are so alike they could be twins.**

**For one, they both have three letters in their name.**

**Both their names have nicknames.**

**They're both seventeen.**

**They both have brown hair.**

**Effie: BOTH ARE HOT.**

**Shut up Effie.**

**Both have brash, bold, defy-the-authority attitudes.**

**Both are in the same alliance.**

**Both are SO fun to write.**

**I literally got their names mixed around. Hehehe. But they both have some distinctive traits.**

**Van acts a bit less mature, Ash is mature, even more since Rooba's death. Ash is more preceptive too.**

**When Van insults someone, it's usually something obvious and in front of their face, like a punch. Ash generally uses sarcasm and implied information, which is like a sneaky jab, but still packs as much power.**

**Van is flirtier. Ash isn't shy or anything, he looks like the kinda guy who doesn't know he has feelings.**

**Van still doesn't get the harsh reality of the Games and death. He's still living in his dreams while Ash knew the start of the struggles.**

**Ash is a leader, Van is one-man army.**

**Sorry for going all Suzanne Collins on you guys. By the way, here's what is happening in the Capitol now:**

**Random Capitol guy: Would you pass me the golden-encrusted-honey-imbued-artificially-flavored-no-preservative-pearl-grated-low-roast-creamed-delicatedly-hand-made delicatessen?**

**His Wife: Sure thing, honey-bunny. I'll go call the Avox and have her come into our silver-lined-million-dollar-furnitured-Greek-style kitchen. I hope she doesn't get lost and go to our silver-lined-million-dollar-furnitured-ROMAN-style kitchen. That would be awkward.**

**Random Capitol guy: Oh, you're so funny, sweetie-pie. Let's breed some mutts after this!**


	10. Fart

**Author's Note:**

**Again, I apologize for the late update AND the short chapter. Please don't kill me. I had other authorly business to take care of. :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the truly awesome universe that is the Hunger Games. (By the way, is anyone going to the movie opening night? Are you going to dress up? MARCH 24 IS ALMOST UPON US PEOPLE.)**

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><p>DISSEA ONYX was doing a headcount.<p>

It was raining and she was already in a bad mood. They had created a shelter inside the cornucopia, but unfortunately, the temperature seemed to drop every minute and Sparks had dropped the firewood in the fight, the idiot.

"…three, four, five. Where's the other girl?"

Dissea was staring at Peleus, the only other girl. She was a skinny, slightly skittish looking kid but for some reason, she had the strength to carry a spear around.

Peleus shrugged, rolling her thin shoulders. "I'm not her babysitter."

Dissea pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, whatever. She's not our problem."

Suddenly, Dissea smelled something smelly. Like rotten cheese and cow manure. She coughed and tried to muffle the hideous stench with the collar of her shirt.

She saw similar reactions in her fellow allies.

"Jeez, who's the idiot that farted?" Sparks moaned into his sleeve.

"Alright, did anyone have beans today?" Crete coughed out.

Mac's usually expressionless face was scrunched up with disgust. Peleus pinched her nose and looked like she was about to die.

Various words of rejection were exchanged, the closed walls of the cornucopia amplifying voices.

Dissea stood up. "That's it, I prefer rain over you lot."

She stepped outside. Flipping on her hood, she found a big cardboard box and crawled inside, trying to ignore the rain. The icy cold water still penetrated through the flimsy material, but it was better than the outside.

Every now and then, she saw the sky crack open and release lightning. It was quite scary because Dissea could hear faraway screams sometimes, but she knew the Gamemakers wouldn't deliberately attack the career camp. They were too good an entertainment source to waste.

She saw the other careers file out of the cornucopia. The stench had finally overwhelmed them. Peleus had lifted her bony self up a tree while Mac sheltered in a hollow tree, like some sort of owl. Sparks and Crete had both found massive shields in the weapons pile and had used spear shafts to create an ingenious makeshift umbrella-thing.

Suddenly, a bush rustled and parted, revealing a disheveled looking trio. There were two girls and one boy. The oldest looking girl who looked about sixteen had a broadsword and her younger allies had a knife each and they looked about fourteen.

They moved in a triangle formation, the younger girl in the front, scampering on light feet to the cornucopia, grabbing an entire sack of apples, half her height. She had no problem lifting it up on her bag and in fact grabbing another cardboard box of soggy bread.

By now, the rain had fallen so heavily that it wasn't a surprise that they hadn't seen the hiding careers. They had probably thought that the careers had gone hunting.

Dissea army-crawled out of her box, keeping herself as close to the ground as she could, which wasn't comfortable, since the rain had turned the ground into cold squelchy mud. She hid behind a box of vegetables (like anyone was going to eat them) and tried to spot Peleus and Mac in the trees. She couldn't use the special whistle because the rain was too loud so she tried to wave at her allies. She saw a branch move and found Peleus. She winked.

_Corner them_, Dissea mouthed.

Peleus nodded her head.

Dissea watched the trio. The boy had broken ranks and had moved to pick up some weapons. The oldest girl was now covering for both of them, but she didn't look wary.

Dissea decided this was the time to act. She tightened her hand on her club and jumped on the boy, who was closest to her. She took him down quickly with a blow to the head.

The two girls saw Dissea and their eyes widened in horror. The younger girl squeaked and dropped her loot.

"Run," the older girl told her remaining ally.

The little girl made a dash to the forest but Peleus jumped in front of her and made a swipe at her with a branch. The little girl ducked just in time and stumbled backwards, knocking against her older ally.

Mac, Crete and Sparks heard the ruckus and ran to join the fight. The careers circled them. No chance of escape.

Then, the girl with the sword did something unbelievable. She ran full speed at Crete and shoved her blade into his stomach, knocking him, along with herself, to the ground. She got up, pushing herself off Crete's writhing body.

She turned on her heel and grabbed her allies forearm, urging her to go on. They both ran away, through the opening. Mac acted fast and rugby tackled the older girl. She hit the ground, making mud fly everywhere.

The girl screeched and kicked Mac in the face. Something cracked. Mac let go of her ankle. By now, all the other careers had already jumped on to her younger ally.

The older girl was doing anything she could do protect her. Using her sword, she deflected Mac's sword and turned around to intercept Peleus's branch, yanking it out of the career's hand.

They began running.

Dissea yelled in frustration. Blinded by fury, she grabbed a knife from the ground and hurled it at the running allies.

One of them screamed and tumbled into the mud. Her yells were cut off suddenly. There were cannons.

It was the younger ally.

The older one gave an animalistic wail of grief but didn't stop running until she was out of sight.

Dissea took a swing at an empty cardboard box with her club, causing it to splinter in half. She swore. "That one shouldn't have gone away. Peleus," Dissea barked. Peleus straightened up. "You're fast, get her."

Peleus gave a slight nod and disappeared into the thick forest, hot on pursuit of the girl.

The rain hasn't stopped. To Dissea, it was a clear sign from the gamemakers that the show hasn't ended.

Dissea stalked over to the still-struggling Crete. Blood was still pouring out from his wound, staining his fingers. Even more blood trickled down his mouth.

Dissea spat at him. "Great help you've been," she said sarcastically. "You've gone and lost us a kill. Do you want to die?"

Crete's eyes filled with horror and he weakly shook his head.

Dissea knelt next to him. Her fingers searched the mud for a dagger. She found it and quietly slit Crete's throat open.

"We don't," she muttered, watching the light fade out of Crete.

The rain suddenly stopped.

Dissea heard the cannon blow just as Peleus reentered the clearing, annoyed.

"Lost the creep. I coulda sworn-" she stopped, looking at Crete. She shrugged. "Oh, that was his cannon. I was hoping the girl had fallen to a ditch and died. Ah well. Didn't think there was much hope in him anyway."

Dissea smiled. At least there was one sane person in the career camp.

Dissea suddenly heard a sickening 'shlock' noise. She turned her head to the sound and saw Sparks kneeling over the younger girl's body, holding the dagger Dissea used to kill her.

"Woah!" he exclaimed. "You got her right in the skull. Wicked."

Dissea felt pleased.

SECK REEDOM had his forehead on the window and was repeatedly banging his head on it like an infantile being.

He let out an immature sigh, watching each raindrop splatter on the ground.

Sofia watched him. "Should I be concerned?"

Seck stopped banging. He could feel a migraine and/or concussion developing. "Should you be concerned?" he repeated. "It's raining!"

"Obviously. Now get in the car. A little rain can't harm anyone. Let's go to the career's camp."

Seck started banging agan. "That's the problem," he moaned. "The plan can't work while it's raining. It's unquestionable."

Seck heard metal banging. Sofia must have closed the door.

"Now what?" she asked, irritated. She had grown used to the fact that no matter the form of persuasion, Seck will never reveal his top-secret plans.

"We wait."

"Until it stopped raining?"

"Until tomorrow."

Sofia groaned. "You're annoying, you know that?"

"Steve Jobs was annoying. He was a pure genius."

"Who's Steve Jobs?"

Seck rolled his eyes. "Your grandmother. Seriously, how many people are there in Panem named Steve? He's a guy from when Panem was still North America."

Sofia yawned. "Facinating. Absolutely fascinating."

ASH LENNOX and his group of allies finally found shelter, a long crack in a rock that opened up to a fairly large cave. It was dark, with patches of light around the area from gaps in the rock.

Ash started a small fire going and lit up the dark cave even more.

The fire cast an uneven glow around the cave. Suddenly, they were faced to face with a hundred pairs of beady eyes.

One of them let out a shrill scream, which was suddenly amplified by the stony walls and the others followed suit.

"BATS!" Van yelled.

The bats suddenly unlatched from their hanging spots and circled around the helpless tributes, clawing, biting and pushing against them.

Ash immediately reached for Ella's hand. He tried to find Van in the mass of black bodies.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" he yelled, straining to be heard over the screeching.

Ash felt a push behind him. It was Van.

The whirl of bats reached a climax and they all hit the ground together, covering their faces and ears.

As suddenly as they came, they left, filtering out from various cracks and crevices.

Ash got up and started patting himself, checking for lost body parts. He had a couple of scratches and very messy hair but he's okay.

Van had a nasty scratch on his cheek and one of his jacket sleeves was ripped. Ella was okay, except for a sprained wrist when they hit the ground.

"Crap, that's gonna hurt when I use the bow," she winced. "Plus, I think they've ripped half my hair off," she added, fussing with her hair.

"It's fine," Van said, gingerly touching his cheek. "Me on the other hand… How do I look?"

"Like someone clawed your face off," Ella replied.

Van wiped his cheek against his sleeve, leaving a trail of red. "That's not too far from the truth."

"Crap," Ash said. "Bat crap."

On the walls were piles and piles of white goo mixed in with the cold dank smell of mud. Not very appetizing. Van was daring Ash to touch it. Ash did and smudged it on Van's forehead.

Thus ensued a bat crap fight between the two boys.

Van scooped up a handful of it and chucked it at Ash, who ducked and hit Ella instead.

"Oops," he chuckled.

Ella was not amused.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I shall leave you with this cliff-hanger. You can imagine what Ella does to Ash and Van.**

**Plus, apologies to the creators of Sofia and Seck. The next chapter will showcase them more because it will be in Sofia's point of view.**

**Guess who farted? :P**


	11. Rag Doll

**Author's Note: I'm back! Who missed me? :D Yeah, I just realized that I haven't been updating since before the Hunger Games movie. Yep. That was a month ago. I feel sorry for all of you. Haha. Please enjoy. Hope I didn't overload on the romance.**

**Did everyone love the Hunger Games like I did? If not, feel free to debate with me. :D**

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><p>SOFIA LUSIEZ was standing in a barely lit room, looking out of the window into the ocean.<p>

It was dark out and she could see enough to see that the waves were crashing against the rocks and flooding shores. Sofia shuddered. She hated the seas looked stormy. It seems so dangerous and whenever a storm came, something bad always seemed to happen.

Suddenly, she heard someone turn the TV on. Sofia turned around and saw her sister, Leonie, perched on the sofa, holding an old rag doll with stitches all over and a missing eye.

The Hunger Games was on in TV. It was a scene from an old year, when the tributes were all-out fighting in the cornucopia.

Sofia walked over to the TV and turned it off. "What are you doing, watching this rubbish?" Sofia asked Leonie.

Leonie shrugged. "My teachers told me to watch."

Sofia pulled Leonie up from the sofa. "They won't find out. Now off to bed."

As soon as Leonie disappeared from view, Sofia turned the TV on again, careful to set the TV on mute.

For a couple of minutes, she was entrapped by the gruesome combat of desperate tributes fighting for their lives. Then, she heard the door open and the stench of alcohol filled the room.

She didn't need to turn around to know that it was her father who just walked in.

Some uneven steps later brought him to the TV where he stood, slightly swaying. He silently watched for a moment.

"What are you doing, watching this rubbish?" he rasped.

Sofia didn't say anything.

"Turn off the damn television and go to bed, sweetheart."

_Sofia got up and turned it off, walking out of the room. "Okay. Good night, Dad."_

_"You have a big day tomorrow."_

_Sofia turned, tilting her head quizzically._

_"You're going to kill those Careers, right?"_

_Suddenly, Sofia woke up, staring at the plain grey ceiling. Seck was shaking on her arm. She sat up, running her hand through her brown hair._

_"Come on," he said stiffly. "The rain's stopped."_

_The image of her dead father was still in Sofia's mind but she tried to push him away. "Right. Okay, give me a second."_

_She grabbed her whips in case she needed to do some close combat and Seck's quiver and crossbow. She checked her pocket to see if Leonie's token was still there. It was._

_They ate leftover birds from yesterday and then Seck revved the truck up. Sofia got in the shotgun._

_"So what's the plan? We drive to the career camp and go in a massive killing spree?" Sofia asked._

_"Yep."_

_"Then?"_

_"We part ways."_

_"Right."_

_The first lurch of the truck was exciting and terrifying at the same time. She tried not to think that Seck was at the wheel but it was hard not to remember when a he hit the car against some trash cans._

_Sofia strapped herself to a seat belt. "Do you even have a driver's license?"_

_"Yes," he answered._

_Sofia's eyeballs could've popped out of her skull. "Really? How old are you?"_

_"Eighteen."_

_Sofia's tongue could've fallen out of her mouth then. She was seventeen. "Oh, I thought you were at least fifteen. Do you have a growth pro-"_

_"No. Now shut up."_

_Clearly, height was a sore subject for him._

_The drive to the cornucopia was silent and uneventful but Sofia was kept on her toes by the possibility of another tribute sighting and the possibility of dying in Seck's driving hands._

_But eventually, the road thickened and the houses were more scattered, signaling that they were close to the edge. There was thick smoke coming out and Sofia guessed it was from the career's camp. Other tributes would be careful about the smoke from their own campfire. The careers used the column of smoke as a gesture of intimidation._

_"Get your crossbow ready," Seck told her. "At the end of the road, we're going to burst into the career camp."_

_Sofia nodded, feeling a knot of apprehension in her stomach. She counted her arrows. She had nine. More than enough for the slaughter of the careers. If she didn't miss._

_She didn't trust her shaking hands to shoot straight though._

_Seck stomped on the gas pedal and the Jeep shot down the road, bursting into the career camp._

_There was an eruption of noise and the car spun around. The wide-eyed careers scattered, some leaping for cover._

_Sofia saw someone dart in the corner of her eye. She shot at it but the lack of screams told her she missed. The jeep swerved again and Sofia had a clear shot of another career. She took it and the career crumpled in a heap. A cannon fired._

_"One down!" Sofia shouted._

_"Can you work faster?" Seck asked._

_Seck ran over a pile of boxes and something slammed against the hood of the car. It was a career. She had been hiding behind the pile of boxes and had jumped on the hood to prevent being run over._

_Now she was hanging on with her nails._

_Seck made a sharp turn in an effort to shake the career off. When it didn't work, Seck hit the gas and suddenly stopped. Sofia smelled burnt rubber. The career was still hanging on._

_"Shoot her!" Seck yelled._

_Sofia leaned out of the window and released her seventh arrow, not before seeing a flash of horror cross the skinny tribute's face. After a small spasm, she relaxed and slid off the hood. Another cannon blasted._

_Seck drove around the camp for a while looking for the remaining two tributes._

_"Do you see them?" Sofia asked._

_Seck didn't answer. It was like they've disappeared into thin air. There were no other sounds except the constant humming of the jeep._

_"I think they've run off to the woods," Seck answered._

_Then, the jeep lurched to the side and Sofia banged her head against window. The jeep spun to a halt._

_"What was that?" Sofia asked groggily._

_Suddenly, the window where Sofia had previously smacked her head on cracked. Dissea had suddenly appeared and smacked her club against the window._

_"Open the door!" Sofia yelled to Seck, tearing her seatbelt open. "Open the other door! She's here! IT'S THE FREAKING APOCALYPSE!"_

_Seck shook the handle and the door opened, Seck tumbling out. Sofia fell backwards out of the door. Quick as lightning, Dissea suddenly appeared on the hood of the car, with her club raised._

_Sofia desperately fired an arrow at Dissea, who dodged it expertly. She jumped on Sofia, who rolled away, barely missing Dissea's club._

_Dissea swung the club again and it connected with Sofia's cheek. Sofia fell against the car, clutching her bleeding cheek._

_"Traitor!" Dissea spat. She dropped her club to the ground, balling her fists. "We promised you safety and a share of the cornucopia and this is how you repay us?" Dissea kicked Sofia's stomach. Sofia felt the breath go out of her. _

_Sofia unrolled the whips from her belt but Dissea kicked it out of her hand. "Thinking of fighting back?"_

_Sofia puffed her cheeks and spat at Dissea, a trick she learned from the streets._

_The moment Sofia saw the look on Dissea's face, she screwed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the worst._

_It never came. Seck had somehow swept Dissea's feet from under her, leaving her surprised and on the ground. Sofia's street-hardened reflexes propelled her towards Dissea. She twisted Dissea's arms behind her, sitting on her back. Dissea tried to wriggle free, twisting like a snake but Sofia kept her down._

_"Who's still alive?" Sofia demanded. "Which career isn't dead yet?"_

_Dissea laughed throatily. "Sparks's too smart to stick around. He's probably miles away right now, you'll never catch him."_

_Sofia glanced up quickly, looking for Seck. He was nowhere to be found._

_"Trying to find your little ally?" Dissea taunted. "What's he gonna do? C'mon it's not like you're gonna win anyway."_

_Sofia twisted Dissea's elbow a bit more. "Well, I'm doing the best I can."_

_Dissea winced, but still pressed on. "And how good is your best? You're only a street rat, you're not trained. You're not even good-looking enough to get sponsors."_

_Sofia felt heat rush up to her face. "You're not in a good position to insult your soon-to-be-killer."_

_Dissea laughed. "Killer? You? Give me your best shot."_

_Before Sofia could do anything else, a loud crack pierced the air and Sofia looked up._

_The forest was ablaze._

ELLA DE WINTER woke up feeling like she had slept through a thuderstorm.

Her clothes hadn't dried properly and clung to her body uncomfortably. It didn't help that they were sleeping in a rock outcropping beside a flooding river.

Ash and Van are still sleeping, huddled together. One of them was snoring.

Ella decided to go looking for breakfast. She grabbed the bow and looked around for the quiver. It was slung on Ash's shoulder. Ella gently shook his shoulder.

"Hey," she whispered as he stirred a bit. "Can I have the quiver?"

Ash handed it to her. "What're you gonna do with it?"

"Catch breakfast," she said. "Hopefully."

"Want me to come with?"

Ella shook her head, already walking out of the shelter. "Nah, I'm alright. I'll be back before Van wakes up."

Ella slipped out and began walking upstream, where it wouldn't be as flooded and where the animals would've run off to.

Ella ducked through some shadowy undergrowth, still keeping the river in sight. The rain had swept all animal tracks away but Ella managed to kill a skinny squirrel, which she stashed in her backpack.

Ella kept hunting until the sun had properly risen. She wandered too long upriver already but it would suck to have only this tiny little squirrel as breakfast.

Ella sighed and remembered her promise to Ash and turned around.

Only to jump out of her skin.

It was a mutt.

Ella stopped breathing. She had an arrow pointed to it but she knew she couldn't shoot straight because of her shaking fingers.

The mutt released a threatening growl and prowled closer to her.

Ella let go of the arrow and as expected, it sailed way above the target. The mutt bared its teeth and rose up on its hindlegs, towering at least a meter above Ella.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Ella yelled dropping her bow on the ground. "See? No danger. I come in peace. Do not eat me. I taste bad… like carrots."

Ella felt a bit foolish talking to the mutt. But since it was manufactured by the Capitol, it wasn't a bad idea to check if it could understand English.

The mutt brought its paws down again and began sniffing Ella curiously. Ella felt like a meal but she stayed as still as possible.

Ella felt a tug in her gut and reached out impulsively to shove it away. Instead, the mutt began to nuzzle Ella's hand. Like an oversized stray dog.

Ella forced her hand to move, rubbing the top of its head. It immediately lay down and began to purr. Like a cat.

"What are you?" Ella wondered.

It answered in a bird-like caw. Then it looked at her with its big yellow eyes.

Its tongue lolled out.

"Oh. My. Gawd," Ella squealed. "You are the cutest thing ever to walk in the arena! I'm gonna take you back home to my District and let my friends play with you and we shall live together in harmony."

Suddenly, Ella had an idea. Whenever the televisions weren't playing reruns of the Hunger Games, they would play little television shows for entertainment. Ella wasn't sure why the Capitol did, maybe to raise working morale in the Districts or something.

Anyway, she must've watched too many of those shows lately because she was sure the next move she was going to pull came straight from a TV stunt.

VAN CAVANAUGH was sharpening his axe on a piece of rock.

It was making an annoying grating sound and the axe was already sharp enough to sever a head with one swing but Van didn't have anything better to do.

"Will you stop that?" Ash moaned from the other corner of the cave.

"Stop what?" Van asked innocently.

"Stop making my eardrums bleed."

"I have no idea what you mean."

SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATCH.

Ash winced. "Okay, now you're doing that on purpose."

"Doing what?"

"Sharpening that infernal axe."

"An axe might just save your life in a fight, Ashy."

"You know what they say… 'A knife takes a life in exchange for some strife.' Here's my knife." Ash held it up.

"Well, you know what they say… 'Sharpen your axe or else you will die.'"

"That… doesn't even rhyme."

"My improvisation skills aren't the best, I agree," Van admitted.

Suddenly, Van felt the ground rumble beneath his boots. He tensed, thinking it was another earthquake. Van shouldered his backpack in case they needed to evacuate suddenly and ran outside.

He found an angry Ash screaming at something.

Van forgot to stop running and nearly collided with something furry.

"Get down from there!" Ash yelled.

Van saw Ella oddly perched on top of the mutt. She was hanging on to the mutt's neck like a lifeline, but she seemed to be enjoying it.

"Don't kill it!" she shouted at the confused boys. "It's friendly."

_Anything Capitol-made is an enemy_, Van thought. "Why don't you get down from that thing and let's talk about this on ground level?" Van rationalized.

Ella smiled sheepishly. "Um, yeah, I haven't figured out how to do that yet."

Ash rolled his eyes. "Just slide down the side. Like a horse."

"Do I look like I've ridden a horse?" Ella asked. Then, something caught her attention from the corner of her eye and her eyes widened. "No time for that, jump on."

Van followed the direction of her eyes and saw something flickering far away. It was getting bigger. "What is that?"

Ash had already scaled the mutt, "It's a forest fire. It's coming quick!"

Van stumbled towards the mutt and Ash helped him up.

Meanwhile, the fire had gotten closer than Van could've believed. It traveled fast.

"Make the mutt move, Ella," Ash said nervously. "The fire's getting closer."

Ella let out a commanding, "MOVE!" But the mutt stayed still.

Ella shook the mutt's mane. "Mutt? There's a fire. We could appreciate if you would run."

The mutt didn't budge.

By now the fire had gotten about several meters from the allies and fleeing animals had already passed them, Van sinking deeper and deeper in despair.

Van and Ash began joining Ella in their attempts to rouse the mutt. The trees behind Van had already combusted and a stray spark had made its way to Van's' elbow. He yelled in surprise and patted down the small fire, wincing.

"VAN?" Ella yelled. The forest was now alive with the sound of cracking branches and falling trees. They could barely hear each other.

"I'm okay!" Van yelled back, biting his lip to numb the pain.

The mutt suddenly lunged forward as though it had woken up from sleep and finally began to run away from the fire.

Van was clinging on to Ash as the mutt bounded swiftly over burning branches. Van smelled the smell of burning flesh and knew that it was his own. Van pulled his jacket collar over his mouth and shut his eyes against the painful embers.

Now, the fire seemed to be at its climax, with Van not even being able to hear himself breath. Suddenly, everything stopped and the mutt was bounding silently through a nice sunny meadow. Van pried his eyes open turned his body around. They were leaving the burning forest behind.

Van heard Ella wheeze, "Stop."

Miraculously, the mutt obeyed and came to a halt.

Ash was the first to slide down, coughing for air on the grass. Van slipped down next and opened his bag. He checked the contents and found them full. He pulled out a bottle of water out.

Ella let herself fall down the mutt's side, dropping with a thud and not moving.

Van pulled himself next Ash and shook him. "You okay?"

Ash gave him a thumbs-up, though he did not stop coughing. Van checked Ella next. She was barely breathing.

"I'm okay," she mumbled raspily. "Jus' breathed in the smoke." She reached for Van's water and gulped it in.

He didn't stop her. Ella had was on the front of the mutt, so it made sense that she breathed in the most smoke.

Ella stopped for air and her green eyes wandered and landed on Van's elbow. "What happened?"

He shrank away from her touch. "A bit of fire landed on me. I'm okay," he lied.

"No, you're not. You're still bleeding." She gently grabbed his elbow. "Ash, come and look at this."

Van didn't remember what happened next, only brief flashes of pain when Ash attempted to bandage his wounds and being barely aware of him squeezing Ella's hand. The next thing he knew, the sun had begun to sink into the horizon and he had passed out against the mutt's side. Across him, he saw that Ella and Van had set up a fire that was slowly dying. Ella had been poking the embers out of boredom.

Ella and Van were deep in conversation. Even though Ash knew it was wrong, he couldn't help himself but to eavesdrop. He opened his eyes to a small slit.

"I remember that there used to be a huge forest fire in District 7," Van was saying. "I remember almost the entire forest had burned down. No one knew what caused it. The peacekeepers blamed it on the citizens and everyone's wages were all deducted. It was terrible."

"Wow. I guess all Peacekeepers in the world are the same. My neighbor once got taken by the Peacekeepers when he paid his taxes a day late. No one knew what happened to him," Ella said.

"Poor guy. So your family's been staying out of trouble?"

"Yeah. So should yours."

"Not really… my family's been working with the Peacekeepers since forever."

"That's really lucky."

"Yeah, I know."

They talked about more trivial matters next before the conversation slowed down to a lull.

Ash cleared his throat. "Hey, I didn't get a chance to say this earlier since we were being chased by a fire, but thanks," Ash joked.

"What for?" Ella asked.

"If you hadn't come here with that mutt, we might all be dead right now."

"Well, it was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing. I didn't expect someone to set the arena on fire when I got on the mutt."

"So you tamed the mutt?"

"Pretty much," she laughed.

"That's very brave."

Ella blushed. "Nah, its more stupid than brave, I think."

"I'm trying to compliment you," Ash said with a smile. "Cut out the modesty."

"Ha-ha. Thanks, Ash. You're not such a bad guy."

"I'm flattered."

Ash looked at the sky. "It's getting late. You might want to get some sleep."

"I can stay up late," Ella said. "But if that's what makes you happy, sure."

Ash suddenly leaned forwards and brushed his lips against Ella's ash-covered cheek. Even under the dying light, Van could see Ella blush and he felt the breath go out of him.

"Thanks, Ella."

Ella crawled beside the fire and fell asleep. Van could stretch his fingers out and touch her red hair. But he didn't dare move so he just stared at her.

A cannon fired in the distance but he was too heart-broken to hear it. The Capitol anthem and the screen on the sky blared and he stayed in that position until he fell into a fitful dream.


End file.
